Worship of the Gods
by lunawritings
Summary: Sacrifice, prayer and desire. Ellie is destined to return the Alkar stone and leave her Midgardian life behind. Loki/OC. Mature.
1. Intertwining

Author's Note:  
This fanfic will begin before Thor but continue into all of the movies. They are based on the films, comics and are intermingled with SOME aspects of Norse Mythology. I have tried to be respectful and apologise if I have written with offence. This will become mature, there will be salty language and violence. It is a slow-burn, a LONG slow-burn (whilst I attempt to avoid writing a mary-sue).

* * *

Worship of the Gods

_Our knowledge is a torch of smoky pine_

_That lights the pathway but one step ahead_

_Across a void of mystery and dread._

_Bid, then, the tender light of faith to shine_

_By which alone the mortal heart is led_

_Unto the thinking of the thought divine_

World George Santayana, O World

* * *

When you read, you inhabit. You build a home from the cover, with four pages as the roof and walls. The fireplace is built by the story and the words are your fuel. For there is an intimate magic in being a reader which welcomes words into our very bloodstream.

And stories must come to an end, but you turn the Gods, heroes, villains and vigilantes into bodily residents.

Especially with Norse mythology; there are stories we know and some we do not. There are folktales, prose and songs which express the agony of such fantasies; whether it be Odin hanging from the Yggdrasil Tree for nine nights; the loneliness of Ginnungagap; and Ymir's corpse gushing like a fountain as his brothers built his bones into mountains.

Some of these stories are true and some are lies. With hideous beauty, they are all good stories in the end.

* * *

Chapter One: Intertwining

"You should be running," the warg drooled. Saliva dripped off its tongue as its pack closed in on the Goddess Frigga. "Meat tastes better when it's hot and wet."

Clutching the precious Alkar Stone to her chest, Frigga hissed: "cannibalise and rot." The pack crept towards her, falsifying their desperation for the stone in her hand.

One of the warg's tongues slithered over his bottom lip; blood-thirsty. "Flesh is flesh," he said and the entire pack snickered maliciously. "Give us back the stone."

Frigga's mission shouldn't have ended as terribly as it did. She had insisted she go alone because the inner sactum of the realm had been abandoned for decades. The Fae and Ljósálfar lived on the outskirts; safely tucked away in their forests and fields. However, Frigga had been wrong and found herself entering a devious and frightening trap.

In the middle of the Forest of Fortitude, Frigga stood alone against the pack of monstrous guards. To her right, one emerged from behind a tree and snapped its jaws.

"Come not near me, beast!" she snapped, raising a hand at the warg. It retreated slightly, eyes dancing with hunger. It had been so long since a Fae or Elf had wandered into their grasps and they were starving.

Frigga took a step back, willing her magic to work on a scale grander than ever before.

"Our master used to say royal flesh tasted better cooked," one whispered.

Another hissed, "I can't wait for it to be cooked."

"Takes too long," it argued. "Why don't we just split her up?"

Snarling with joy, the first barked, "into fours!" Frigga's heart began to race as she lost count of how many were stalking her movements. She sensed an animal behind her. "Eights! Give me the head – boil, blister, burn the brain!"

Frigga saw the moonlight reflect over the scarred skin of the warg closest to her. The silver rippled over it like a wave, illuminating years of battles and mutilation. The sight set Frigga's teeth on edge. She curled her fingers around the Alkar stone and sensed it rippling against her skin.

Inhaling, she lifted a skilled hand and began a transport incantation. Heimdall would not be able to take her back to Asgard until she was clear of Alfheim's dark innards. The magic would attach itself to Frigga and destroy the capitalist city. She had to destroy any trace of the wargs; if they followed her home, they would find precious artefacts on Asgard. That would be an even larger battle to finish.

Frigga lowly murmured the spell, willing energy to fill from every inch of her being. She felt it running through her veins and suddenly there was a blinding yellow light around her. Her feet left Alfheim's forest floor and she was soaring through a portal.

"The stone!" a warg screeched into her ear.

Frigga cried out as a large body smashed against her, knocking her out of the transport stream. The She landed in a heap, panting as the air had been sucked out of her lungs. The Alkar Stone lay on the ground in front of her. It shimmered an iridescent white, appearing outlandishly alien in the grubby puddle.

Pushing herself up, Frigga glanced back at the four slumped creatures who had pushed their way into her portal stream. They were dazed, lowly grumbling as they got to their feet.

Frigga grabbed the stone and haphazardly got to her feet. She used her spare hand to cast a blinding spell at the wargs. It shot out of her hand as a green fireball and they erupted into cries of disillusionment. They rolled over, whimpering about their sight.

"It burns!" one cried. The others howled, falling against each other in pitiful states. It wouldn't last long, Frigga's magic was powerful, but causing pain had never been her strong point.

Taking off down a thin path, the world which surrounded her was not ethereal, nor was it bright with magic. It was a concrete world. Horrific stenches filled Frigga's nose, making her sensitive eyes water.

Clangs, bangs and whistles echoed around her. There were noises coming from the sky and she spotted a tiny aircraft moving in-between the stars. The stream of noises weren't alarming to the inhabitants of the realm; they were the sound of the city.

Frigga hurried down a street, her shoes splashing in accumulations of water. Mud soaked the rim of her cape. She saw the filthy wetness of the realm as sweat and decided she had to make it back to Asgard as quickly as possible.

Up ahead, streetlights lined the pavement. They created circular orbs of light which Frigga sprinted through, her eyes whipping left and right. The buildings had windows. Beings resided within these buildings and she couldn't allow the wargs to live. She came to slow jog, her feet pattering the pavement quietly.

The grumble of industrial landmarks called to her. She tucked the Alkar stone away and started towards the inner city.

"You'll burn too, your highness!" a voice said behind her.

Frigga gasped, turning back and seeing all four right behind her. Standing leg-to-leg, they appeared like looming shadows in the darkness. A barbaric claw swiped out, slashing her chest.

Frigga stumbled momentarily but could not feel much of the pain as magic surged through her. She swiped her hand blindly and then took off down the street. She hurtled around a corner and into another path.

The energy and magic within her was being pumped into her ability to run further.

After several streets, she found they all looked the same and they stunk. Frigga did not want to run any further, her legs were burning. With each breath, she felt air setting her insides of fire. A hand went to her chest and came away with scarlet red.

Only then did the pain flare. She whimpered, coming to her senses. The skin was torn deeply; tissue and muscle had been ripped open by the claws.

Perhaps it was the wound or the exhaustion, but Frigga knew the wargs were in a vastle superior state of strength to her own. Once they caught up with her, they would take immense pleasure in killing her and taking the Alkar stone back to Alfheim. And the Fae and Ljósálfar would live in fear forever.

Frigga curled her fingers into a fist. She started running again. Her tightly-bunned hair became loose, streaming behind her in knots.. It had been in braids only hours ago, intricately tied with rune-jewels by her handmaidens. A distant clatter of beads echoed behind her as they fell from her hair.

The Allfather would be furiously watching her from his chambers. If she concentrated enough, she could sense his all-seeing eye. How much it pained her that she couldn't call out and reassure him. But he knew she was a warrior, raised by witches and magic.

This mission had been assigned to her by the Völva. According to his prophecy, she was the catalyst in Alfheim's fate; the Ljósálfar's future.

"I can hear your heart beating!" a warg cried, its spit laced its words like grease. It had become a game; she was the prized fox and they were the hounds, hungry for torn flesh.

Frigga gritted her teeth, wishing for this night to be over so she could return to the Lords and Gods of the court with her possession. Her slim-fit boots stretched up her legs and the heels clacked furiously against the concrete ground. This realm was a forest of stone; so loud and harsh to touch. Her foot connected with a glass object which she promptly kicked and smashed.

Frigga looked down and spotted another bottle. She fluidly dove, grabbed it and turned. The hurtling object struck the astonishingly close nozzle of one of the wargs. It yelped and her heart leapt in surprise when its brothers jumped over his stumbling body.

Muttering an incantation, Frigga compelled any freelance, materialistic object to rise from the ground. Glass, dirt and litter flew into the air and twisted together to form a wave. It sliced over Frigga's head and exploded in the wargs' faces.

A grim smirk nearly reached her lips, but there was no time to dwell on her ethereal witchcraft. She skidded around a tight corner and compelled her inner witchery to work. A stunted barrier appeared inside of her. She attempted to regain control of her power but it sat churning and trapped inside of her.

Her fingers curled around the Alkar. Of course, it would drain her magic until it was restored to its rightful place. Hissing in annoyance at her foolishness, she continued with only enough energy to run on.

It was vital that Frigga was tactical about her situation. She had to use her physical strength. Turning, she went to grab an arrow from her back. Her muscles were smooth and agile from years of training.

However, the creatures leapt between the buildings with their leveraged hind legs. From above, one snarled and hacked a glob of phlegm. The spit flew and met its mark on the back of her right leg.

Frigga cried out and dropped the arrow. She stumbled momentarily as pain erupted up her limb. Her yelp transformed into a growl of displeasure which powered the very last slithers of magic within.

With a twist of her hand, she stretched her fingers so the magic could swim out of her chest and into her fingertips. The bones urged the power out in the form of sharp daggers which sliced through warg flesh; a paw, two legs, an eye and a stomach.

Several crumpled in a deceased, hideous heap. For an empath such as herself, she felt their soul leaving their body and splitting into stardust. It made her shake with energy.

Frigga darted down another alley which stunk of fermented fruit. She sensed the drunkard in the shadow before she saw him. He was dozing and incoherent until he blinked and began to get to his feet.

Before he could attempt to screech, his eyes wide with terror, Frigga stretched an arm out and compelled his body upwards and over the top of the building. He was heavier and more draining than she thought; she tripped in order to control him. Frigga's nose felt wet but she knew it was not from sweat.

With a wretched snarl at her own mortality, she hurtled out of the alley and onto a wide plane of concrete. The street, or bridge as she found, was lined with poles of light. Rushing water drummed beneath her feet.

Another rattle to her left startled her. It was a machine with two orbs stuck to its front. She wavered across the bridge, watching it incredulously.

* * *

Under the dull lights of Westminster Bridge, a black Vauxhall Cavalier appeared. Its headlights blaring beneath the moonlight and dull shine of London. The driver fumbled with her bag on the passenger side, muttering a string of curse words as she yanked out a cassette tape and shoved it into the player.

Upon hearing the first few bars of Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_, she enticed herself with the warmth of her car and the melody. With an attempt to hum the tune coherently, she could only laugh and be thankful only two could hear: herself and God. _Think of it as a private concert_, _Heavenly Father_, she thought which widened her grin.

Suddenly, a woman stumbled in front of her lights. The driver yelped and yanked on her steering wheel. A thick shadow was illuminated immediately; its orange eyes flashed and then the driver felt the fierce slam of its body cracking her bumper. Her seatbelt burrowed deep into her chest as she broke, hard.

It knocked the wind from the driver's chest and forced her body to crack. She hit her head against the steering wheel and bounced like a pinball machine. There was so much noise. A symphony of grinding, hissing and growling cut through London.

Then it was quiet, except for Beethoven and the driver gasping for breath in her seat. She collapsed against the door and fumbled for the handle. _Heavenly Father_! Through the sting, there was a jumbled stream of thoughts in her head. _It's going to explode_. _I'm going to burn to death_. _I need to grab the door handle, and I need to get out_.

She slid out of the car and fell onto her hands and knees. It felt as if the world was spinning. Which, it technically was, but the ground underfoot was turning quicker than that of its master. She vomited.

When the second heave came, she forced it back with some strength. Wiping her chin, she shivered and rolled backwards onto the tarmac. It did not feel as if she were sat upright. Her nausea washed over her, illuminating the taste of acid in her mouth and potato stew company now on the ground.

Ahead, in her blurred sight, there were two dark shapes darting beneath one of the street lights. One was larger than the other, predominately so. The driver squeezed her eyes so tight that it hurt. _Dear Heavenly Father, pardon me for the evil I have done this day. _

_It must be the people I hit, or a pedestrian running to look at the body of who I've murdered_. She squeezed her Apostle's Creed which had dipped out of her sleeve and was laid across her palm as if ready to protect her. Curling her fingers over hanging piece of her rosary, she couldn't find the courage to ask the Lord if she was now a killer.

An overwhelming wave of dread and anxiety made her want to throw up again. She could not cope with someone's blood being on her hands, and now she had sealed her fate by getting out of the car. They have seen her face, there is no way of lying or getting away. Being a hit-and-run driver would definitely ruin her mental state, that being said it was normal to begin with.

How cowardly. She cursed herself for even imagining speeding off into London and disappearing. Oh, it would be plastered on British Tabloids: London Evening Standard, Illustrated London, The Daily Telegraph: **BODY LEFT BRUTALLY BATTERED IN HIT-AND-RUN**.

She would be the star of an awful alliterative newspaper headline.

Her eyes opened and landed on the largest of the two shadows. That was when cold, mind-numbing fear consumed her. The oxygen disappeared from her lungs. Turning her head to the side, she squeezed her eyes together and inhaled. _Exhale_. _Inhale_. _Exhale_.

She had to look again, even though something deep within screamed not to. The growls were so cruel and fierce that it froze her bones. Feeling very much like a statue as she stared at the monster ahead, she became crystallised with horror.

It was not a normal bear. Not even similar, but it was either that or a wolf half the size of a double-decker bus. With a thin lining of matted fur, its skin looked tightly stretched over its body. The beast roared, flashing long teeth and a lopsided jaw. One side of its face had been battered, she could see huge molars and bloody flesh.

It looked as if it had been hit with a car.

The bear was in a relentless battle with a woman, the one the driver had nearly hit. That gloriously, beautiful red hair could not be forgotten. Dressed in a blue gown and hunting boots, she appeared like something out of a book. Her hair must've been styled in a high bun once, several streams had been yanked out and hung loose over her frame. Still, she dove around the bear as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

To believe, the driver thought her singing of Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ was going to be the most absurd part of her drive home.

The red-haired woman grabbed her long bow and released an arrow immediately. She then clutched at the fabrics of her chest as if searching for something.

The driver felt herself being mesmerised, but also dangling on the edge of an anxiety attack as she watched them.

There was something unearthly about their dance, and also angelic with Beethoven echoing from the car. Like Hell and Heaven attempting to battle one another, there was a glow and darkness.

With a pirouette, the red-head darted beneath the bear's jaw and slid along the tarmac, jabbing a dagger into his underbelly.

It yelped and snapped at her, but she was too quick. In a flurry, she had disappeared behind him and clambered onto his back. Against the blackness of the night sky, her red hair looked as if it truly were on fire. The woman jammed her weapon into its spine and was promptly thrown aside when the creature roared and bucked her off.

The driver desperately wanted to help the woman. She felt as if there was something to prove now: a courage or ferociousness.

Gathering those emotions was harder than initially thought. How could a complete mundane even find the strength to take on a beast? This was the stuff of nightmares. Tears pricked the driver's eyes.

A scream echoed around her. With a swipe, the bear ripped at the woman's chest and sent her falling backwards. She lost grip of her bow when she smacked her head off the pavement. The woman attempted to turn onto her front and crawl, but its jaws clamped on her hair.

Brutally, she was yanked upwards and shaken like a ragdoll. It reminded the driver of a documentary she had watched once, a lion hunted and slayed an antelope, but to finish the job he had viciously shook his head with his teeth latched to its throat.

The bear dropped the woman, who clambered to her feet and took off stumbling. She was heading towards the middle of London. It was bewildering that she was still conscious. The driver pointed suddenly and shouted, "hey! Hey! That thing is still–holy shit!" The great beast wrapped its jaws grabbed the woman by the hair again. With wide eyes, the driver put her hand over her mouth, so she wouldn't scream.

Instead of getting up, all she thought of was her postgraduate year. She had learnt about realism. It was a way of looking at objects as existing in reality or as a conceptual scheme. Was this all a concept? Well, there was a spectrum of realism, the bear could–

The woman let out a blood-curdling scream. She was grappling behind her in a feel attempt to scratch the beast's nozzle. It swung the driver back to reality.

_Heavenly father_, _I call upon you today for your divine guidance and help. _Shakily, the driver rose to her feet and swayed with nausea. "The Lord is my strength and my shield." Gentle waves washed over her, taking the sickness away. "My strength and my shield."

She turned around and looked at her car. Along the bridge had been flimsy railings which her tiny car had rammed into a broken. She yanked on one of the rods and swung it out, grasped it between her hands when it came free.

"My heart has trusted in Him," she recited. Drawing upon her knowledge of philosophy, she debated whether the creature was real at all. Then again, according to Richard Swinburne's _Principle of Credulity_, if someone stated something was present, then it had to be true. So, why not a great mythological beast?

In that mad moment, that was enough. With a sharp inhale, the driver hoisted her weapon in the air and sprinted forward. Now focused on the red-head on the floor, the beast didn't notice her at all. A thousand thoughts ran through her; of murder, death and betrayal.

Oh, how she wished to be an Apostle's Creed. How neatly and warmly it was tucked away inside of her sleeve like a creature in its coccoon.

Swinging the pole hard, the splintered end hit the beast's eye with a squelch. The bear released the woman and cowered backwards. It slumped with its head bowed.

The red-haired lady had let out a cry when she fell into a heap.

Horrified, the driver looked at the metal bar lodged in the creature's skull. She swallowed fresh vomit and hurried forward. Taking hold of the red-head by her arms, she hoisted her to her feet; much to the displeasure of her burning limbs.

The woman gasped and heaved down the driver's ear. Under her hands, the driver felt sweat and blood coming from the gown. Glancing around frantically, the brunette fought to ignore the burn that came with holding the weight of another. _Where to go?_ _How far would we get_?

The beast would be back soon. Hobbling over to the other side of the road, she looked at her car for ideas. With steam billowing out the front, brick and rubble around and the stench of petrol it offered no solution. The driver pitied her vehicle, it had done her good.

"Uh, maybe… a phone… a phone-box!" the driver cried. She looked around quickly and spotted a red, shining beacon of hope on the other side of the bridge.

"W-Wait," a soft voice murmured, "the… The …"

"The what? What is it?" the driver asked quickly. Her eyes darted around and fell upon the object dropped on top of a drain at the edge of the road. "That thing? Is that what you mean?"

Nodding, the red-haired woman closed her eyes and squeezed her lips together. The driver leaned closer, sensing whispered words on the edge of the red-haired mouth. "Please, get it. It will save us," her voice came dismantled.

After a unsure nod, the driver hobbled faster and fought to be as gentle as possible when lowering the lady down. The driver's back groaned and the whiplash would be terrible come morning, but she helped the redhead to sit down, putting at least a weak barrier between her and the monster that was stirring.

Chewing the inside of her lip, the driver hurried into the middle of the road and grabbed the object. She stumbled backwards, landing hard against the kerb. She sensed the grand woman sat behind her, barely conscious. There was a movement next to her hip which made her heart jump. The green jewel was buzzing, vibrating like nothing the driver had ever seen before. There was an air of enticing awe emitting from the stone.

Ripping a roar, the monster screamed, and the driver dared not look in case her heart gave out. Vibrating faster, the jewel almost bounced towards her.

_Heavenly Father, is this a sign_?

Grabbing the stone, she lifted it and felt it began buzzing madly. The material felt hot. The glow glinted off of her Rosary beads which had, once again, reappeared.

In a terrifying run, the monster hurtled towards her and knocked her flat onto her back. Her skull collided with the pavement, and she twisted violently. The thing was on top of her and it stunk.

Fierce teeth clamped around her leg. She let out a scream, dropping the stone as he body was yanked backward. An agony, unholy and alien, filled her. It overwhelmed the prayer on her lips as she continued to screech.

The redhead behind her grabbed at her hair and took out a thin dagger. With great difficulty, she aimed and threw it into the eye of the monster. It released the driver and stumbled back with a whine.

The driver collapsed against the concrete, spitting out blood from the inside of her cheek. Her shaking hand could scarcely attempt to comfort her leg. She lifted her head to look back with a tearful gaze.

The bear shook its head and prepared to come for her once more.

The driver called the Lord's name, he was her only companion to remember. With few friends and no family; she wished she had another to say goodbye to. Her eyes flickered back to her wrist where her Rosary hung. Beside her was the green crystal.

The creature travelled in slow motion this time, jaws wide, eyes as dark as night. And with little rationality, the driver thrust her hand outwards and grabbed the stone. It was pressed up tightly against her Rosary as she held it aloft and compelled every inch of pleading, begging and mercy from within.

It began to vibrate so quickly that it stung her hand. A white light erupted from the stone.

The driver began screaming. Like an atomic bomb had been released, light burst from her hand and flooded London.

A burning sensation tingled her body as she squeezed her eyes together.

Once, in a philosophy book, she'd read that a man had been praying in a church when a bright light appeared in his hands. It exploded and blinded him, but now blind, he saw the beauty of God and went on to preach about the wonders of his Lord.

This red-hot feeling must've been what it felt like. For several moments, she felt too frightened to scream against the light, but then it was over.

Darkness settled over her. In that blindness, the driver called out: "Heavenly Father? Are you...? Is that...?"Gagging, she opened her eyes and began to gasp for air. There was something akin to a hiccup and sob in her throat as she attempted to climb to her feet.

The monster had been thrown backwards. He lay crumpled, half-hanging over the stone barrier with its tongue lolling from its mouth.

A searing pain burst from her thigh, which made it exceptionally painful as she pushed her weight up and tried to stand. The agony became too much, and she collapsed in a heap of sweat against the kerb again. Hot blood streaked her skin, soaking her jeans.

The red-haired woman stared at her. "Midgardian, you... you used the Alkar," she said wistfully.

"W-What? Oh, yeah. Here," the driver replied breathlessly and handed it to the redhead. The woman's palm was surprisingly cool to touch, nor clammy like the driver's. Now closer, she looked at her beauty. With long hair and an abundance of jewels on her gown, she looked like she belonged at a ball instead of mid-London. The woman coughed. When she withdrew her hand, there was blood.

"Your name, child," she croaked and lowered it. "Give me your name."

"It's, uh, it's Ellie."

The woman struggled to turn her head. "Your true name," she said. "I sense lies."

Ellie glanced at her. "Eurelia Adamson."

"I am Frigga."

It sounded Norwegian, perhaps it was custom to dress in such a manner as well. The woman had an elegance about her, even covered in blood and dirt. Claw marks along the satin material of her garments made Ellie look across the bridge at the monster. She very much doubted that was Norwegian. For now, it was unconscious.

"It is a warg," Frigga said. Ellie looked at her, slightly alarmed. "It is a guardian of one of the Nine Realms; of Nilfheim. But that one and the others are from Alfheim. From whence do you hail?"

Ellie's frown deepened upon hearing intellectual dialect, words not used by modern tongue. "H-Hail? Where am I from? Greenwich."

"Green Witch? Which Witch is this? Who is your ruler? Sweyn? Eric?"

"No, no. No, I am from England. Greenwich is a place in this city, in London? In England," she struggled to explain. "In Europe," she added. From the look on Frigga's face, half of her information was not understood. "On Earth," Ellie said.

The woman's eyes lost some weariness. "Hm... Midgard. How peculiar."

There was a heartbeat of awkward silence. A cultural difference was startlingly obvious. Clearly Frigga knew what was happening and Ellie craved an answer. "So, where are you from?"

"I am Queen of Asgard; Ruler of Asgardian Gods and fair-folk." Frigga didn't mention her name again, so Ellie assumed her official title was 'your Highness' most of the time. Having never met the Queen of England either, using formal language made her nervous. What a pathetic thing to be nervous about. _There's a dead bear-dog in front of me, for Christ's sake_!

"I guess I should call you Your Highness, then. Sorry, uh, if I offended you during our little battle."

"It is my preferred title, yes," Frigga said with a slight grunt. "However, given the circumstances of our meeting, I was not upset by your tone."

"Another good thing going for us tonight then. Nearly died, but we're getting along..."

Frigga let out a gasp and bent over. One hand grasped her leg and the other her chest. With deep breaths, she struggled to control her pain and wracked a whimper. Ellie placed a hand on the Queen's shoulder. "What can I do? I need to call an ambulance for you."

"No," Frigga hissed and contorted her body again.

"You need to see a doctor!"

Frigga's hand was losing it grip on her bleeding chest. Ellie watched blood pool through the crack of her fingers. "I…" the word died on the royal's lips.

Without hesitating, Ellie dragged herself behind Frigga and pulled the woman with brute force to her. Using pained wrists, Ellie yanked her tank top out from beneath her jumper and wrapped it around Frigga's front.

With it tied tightly, the Queen gasped and panted. Ellie offered a gentle shushing when Frigga began to sweat; becoming slightly incoherent.

"The Alkar must... to Freyr... Ljósálfar..."

"Please let me call an ambulance for you, Frigga," Ellie begged. There was no answer. "We have to get out of here." Ellie sucked in a breath, thinking about their options if Frigga was too weak to be left alone. Everything ached, especially her leg and soon the pain would fade and she would die.

Ellie lifted her wrist to her mouth and whispered into her rosary. With the end of her Rosary, she called to the Holy Queen. "O Mother, O sweet Virgin Mary, show Frigga your kindness." Ellie dissolved her trauma and exhaled, looking upon the lady in her arms. "Fine. I will drag you."

Frigga glanced at the Rosary dangling above her. "Please. Don't. We have to wait."

"Wait? Wait for what? Morning? We'll be run over ourselves. London traffic stops for no one."

"Please, wait," Frigga managed to choke. Ellie watched her wide eyes.

They heard a distant roar. Looking up, they found a final monster hurtling towards them both. It was at the end of the road, running down the middle with a determined look.

Ellie struggled to draw breath. She leaned over Frigga and grabbed the rock, rattling it like a toy. Nothing happened. It was cold to touch.

Ellie hissed, "fucking hell! Why won't you work? Work!"

"Eurelia…" Frigga's voice came quietly. Hearing her formal name sent a shiver up her spine but the Queen's tone was so distant it could only fill her with gloom.

Hot tears streaked her cheeks.

_Thud_. _Thud_. _Thud_.

The warg began running towards them. It was monstrously tumultuous, even the ground quivered before it.

Ellie swore, throwing the jewel at it and grabbing Frigga. She pulled her to her chest, not caring if she tugged at the wounds; only wanting comfort – _loving_ comfort before death.

In their white-knuckled grasp, Ellie found the Queen smelt of sandalwood. Did they have such trees in Frigga's homeland? Oh, how beautiful the forests of tantalum must've smelt compared to that of Earth. Perhaps Frigga's was full of magic and witchery. As Ellie began to rock back and forth, she imagined running through a forest with sandalwood leaves falling from the sky.

"Please, God," she whined. "Heavenly Protector, please save us. Save me and my soul will be yours."

Light cascaded her like a tsunamic wave. Through her eyelids, she saw white and then there was more silence that ever before. This must be death.

"Enough, foul creature." The voice that spoke was ice-cold and clear as fresh spring water. Her throat ached to respond – so they would speak again. The pain was from swearing so fiercely, but it felt as if it was dry from begging.

Blinking through the haze, Ellie saw a dark mountain in front of her.

It was difficult to focus on the figure. But there was green; deep green like a forest on their cape. Was it a cape? It was hard looking; as if made of thick leather.

In that bizarre moment of clarity, she watched the world as a surreal dream. The figure rose a limb, one of their arms, and the warg released a roar. Ellie blinked again, trying to focus on the blue wisps that spread into the air. In ribbons, the coloured air rose and suddenly darted at the creature. It wrapped around its body like a dozen snakes and began to tighten.

With a look full of dark fury, the beast's jaws unhinged like a snake, his tongue dropped out as it cruelled: "_Aknuk El Vira mismantos knitos eferma litos varom merda_."

"Acrimony," the _man_ said mockingly.

Ellie shuddered and clutched Frigga tighter, but it was impossible to ignore the shooting pain in her wrists.

The man's voice demanded something, she couldn't be sure what, but it was accented with a twinge of received pronunciation; too far removed to be British, but something else entirely.

The beast snapped its jaws at the smoke tentacles, which did nothing.

Beams of azure evaded the fur of the monster. It hurt to watch, the light gave off an angelic glow despite the cruelty of its actions. The threads looped around the creature's strong legs, then his throat and found their way into its open mouth. Its magic humming was silenced with a gargle and suddenly, the cords began to shrink.

"The Alkar," Frigga said. Despaired, Ellie looked at the jewel she had foolishly thrown. It was just past the man, in the middle of the road once again. She hadn't thrown it far and yet it felt like a thousand miles lay ahead of her.

Ellie raised a trembling hand and pushed damp strands of hair from her face. She struggled to stand but did so with sweat pouring out of every pore. The man's outstretched hand twisted, summoning power upon the warg.

Staggering forwards, Ellie was blind to danger and went to grab the jewel.

"The girl!" Frigga rasped. The man whipped his body around faster than light. He shoved Ellie hard and she was knocked several feet away, landing in a painful heap.

The beast's claw caught his front, swiping downwards across his neck and chest. With a cry, he fell back and had little time before the creature clamped its teeth on his boot and dragged him forwards.

"Loki!" Frigga said desperately behind Ellie, "do not touch one of Odinsons!" There was a powerful gust of wind from behind her and it picked up strength, becoming a dust-cloud which smacked against the beast's face. The warg released Loki with a sharp whine.

Ellie looked back at Frigga and watched the woman slump forward; defeated. Her arm was outstretched.

Loki hissed a string of curses in a language foreign to Ellie. He twisted, grunting as he pushed himself to his feet. When his eyes caught sight of Frigga, there was a flash of anger.

The warg rumbled, getting to his feet again. Loki whipped around in time to meet it. His fingers moved like he was playing an invisible instrument. Green shimmers emerged from his palms.

The warg lunged for Loki, mouth wide. Ellie nearly choked when Loki used his glowing hands to stop the mouth of the monster. He moved his legs to handle the beast better and shook with strength.

Ellie looked around quickly because she knew Loki couldn't deal with the warg alone. Despite his power, he wasn't immortal. He couldn't be.

_Heavenly Father, give me courage. Give me your wisdom_. Behind Ellie, the remnants of a broken rail lay sprawled at odd angles. Her car had done a good job of destroying public property.

With a strangled noise coming from her throat, Ellie pushed herself up and made her way to the car. She leant on the bonnet and yanked a pipe free. An array of grunts and growls made her fear for her life a tiny bit more.

Shaking, she exhaled slowly and fought to hold the new-founded weapon. Her sweat made the metal feel loose. She took hold of it with two hands once again. Nearing the battle, Loki struggled beneath the warg's jaw, holding it open with both hands. Ellie could not guess how strong he was to do so.

Their eyes met briefly. His were dark and wide. A thousand questions and answers were said before he scrunched his face up and clenched his teeth together. Hands bleeding, he held and pushed on those fierce canines.

Ellie lifted the pipe and didn't give chance to think about murder. Jamming it into the warg's skull, her weapon vibrated as it cut through fur, skin, tissue, bone and brain. The warg howled, releasing Loki.

Ellie pulled the bar free and smashed it into the warg's eyeball in a heartbeat. It squelched and she released the weapon. The warg stumbled sideways, yelping like a dog and raising a paw to its face.

"Oh. Fuck," Ellie blubbered. It was a slap to the face when she realised how cruel she had been.

Loki clenched his right fist and blue burst from it which, once again, became snakes and clamped aorund the warg's skull. There was a momentary silence and then bones cracked.

Brain, flesh and blood burst from the magic ropes; splattering Loki and Ellie.

She lurched and vomited. It took several moments for her to compose herself but when she looked up, she found the two mythical beings were on their feet and hobbling towards an alleyway on the other side of the bridge.

Wildly looking back at her steaming car, the warg and the two beings, she decided mundane answers were not enough.

Ellie followed the pair, feeling minute against the tall buildings London. As she did so, rain began to patter the ground around her. It was thin and sleeting.

The blazing lights of the city shone upon her doddering figure until she rounded the corner to an alley and was blessed with darkness.

Slumped against the muggy wall, was Loki and Frigga. His head was tilted upwards, the crown pushed against the brick as he inhaled and exhaled with peculiar clarity.

Ellie shot a final look at the illuminated city and entered the path.

"What is your name?" the man demanded, his voice was laced with pain. Ellie neared him, but his gaze was glued to Frigga's face. Loki's fingers traced her hair, cheeks and jaw. Blue light snaked from him, soaking into Frigga's skin like water to cloth.

Ellie verbally stumbled, "excuse me?"

"Tell me your name, Midgardian. I request you speak."

She opened and closed her mouth, struggling to make sense of how their ideologies differed so greatly. Shivering beneath the streetlamp light, she fought to breathe in and out her nose. After a moment, she said, "my name is Ellie, Your Highness."

"Ellie?"

"Well, I, uh, it's Eurelia. But it's far too formal. My birth parents must've been larpers... or medieval-enthusiasts. Which is probably the same thing, I mean they left me on the doorstep..."

"Enough," the man replied dryly. "Who are you to my mother? What query does the Queen hold to you?"

"I..."

"_Qlfuss_..." he said. "Sit down. I'd rather go without answers than tend to your wounds, Midgardian."

Weariness overtook her as she collapsed beside Loki, her breathing heavy. Up close, his pristine skin glistened with perspiration. As pale as the page of a newly printed book, he should've been ghastly. Even his salient jaw and high cheekbones should have been startling, reminding Ellie of a god-like figure she'd read about so many times.

It was painful to pull her eyes away. Frigga and Loki's frightful beauty was unearthly.

Ellie swallowed. "I was driving," she said, replaying the flashes and bangs of the last 30 minutes. "And this – this monster appeared out of nowhere. I crashed the car and saw Frigga fighting it. I tried to help her and that green thing caused a bomb or something, I don't know, it killed the monster, the one hanging over the side of the bridge."

"Alkar. The Life Stone? What do you mean?" he snapped, still examining Frigga.

"Well, I touched it. I grabbed it and it just… it exploded. Look, shouldn't we be getting your Mum to a hospital? There's blood everywhere! You're hurt as well."

"Silence." His voice cut through the air like a splinter of ice and it hurt Ellie more than the ache in her body.

"Excuse me?" she said, afronted.

He scarcely shot her another glance. If anything, her speech was out-of-term to him and his annoyance was rising. "Heimdall will help us soon," he snapped.

"What?" Ellie blubbered. "We look like we've stepped foot inside a blender. I'm freezing my tits off and will probably be dead in an hour because my resting heart rate feels like I've got John Bonham drumming it."

Loki's face turned. Now was not the time for humour. There was deep revulsion in her rescuer's eyes, he looked at her like dirt. Ellie clamped her mouth shut. She leaned back ever so slightly and waited in reticence, her fingers ghosting the bloody wounds of her leg. The pain felt like an ebb, which meant terrible news.

"This silence irritates me," Loki said through the cold. In the starlit September weather, Ellie suppressed her shiver. "Continue with your idle speech, it is much more bearable than the foul screech that is nearby."

His eyes darted into the distance. They were near London Airport and the motorway which led to it. Sure enough, the zoom of traffic was present as well as the noise of a plane taking off. Ellie followed it with her gaze. _Bloody hell, I wish I were on that thing instead_. "You saved my life. Thank you," she said.

"You are more fortunate than you could imagine. You Midgardians with your stomping around and indecisiveness. If it were not for my Mother, I would not have saved you."

"So, what, you regret that you did?" Ellie asked lightly. He gave her a short look which told her the answer.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Ellie did not reply. Instead, she looked down at the woman and tried to untangle where she had come from. It was obvious they followed some sort of group, a cult perhaps.

"If we're going to be here a while, then you might as well talk. Surely, your voice will please you better than mine does, your Highness."

Immediately, she realised her spiteful tongue had gotten her in more trouble. He was unaccustomed to being spoken in such a way, his eyes narrowed. _"L__idet er om den mans vrede, som ingen vurder_."

Ellie bit her lip and shook her head as tears burned her eyes. She could not understand his mind, and now his dialect made her smaller than she already felt. It was obvious it had been something cruel.

"What did you say?" she asked quietly. He remained calculated, staring out at the alley wall. "Was that Danish? Or a mixture of dialects?"

"Enough. These mundane questions are grating me."

Crying was not a response she needed now. Ellie swallowed and eyed him. "Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but I'm a Philosophy graduate. It's my job to ask questions. And you did ask me to talk."

Ellie sighed when he continued to stiffen.

Loki pulled Frigga closer to him.

In retaliation, Ellie shuffled too. Despite being thought of inferior, she wasn't going to be made to feel uncaring. She had no doubt that as soon as this help of his came, she'd be left quivering in the drain and it would be over her cold hands that, that would happen. They must have been sat for nearly half an hour and it was still raining so she would be accompanying them to potential shelter.

The cold had comforted the pain in her leg. Hypothermia was setting in and fast. It must've set in a while ago; Ellie could no longer feel her toes. Looking to the man beside her, she noted the rain that soaked his hair and robes as well. Her eyes travelled down the drip of water sliding along his cheekbone, over a red scrape and dropping off his chin.

The gaze went to Frigga. "She won't survive if we continue to sit out here." Ellie said boldly. The woman's dress was soaked, blood pooled from beneath the man's palm. It looked horrifying with the water to dilute it further.

Loki flexed his fingers and a gentle green glow pulsed into Frigga's dress. Immediately, her frown was an inch smoother. "I do not need to discuss her state, nor my intentions," Loki said.

Disturbed by the science-fiction reality she was witnessing, Ellie took little notice of his voice. "I have my car keys. I can drive her to a hospital. I mean, you're hurt too. They can help us."

"Midgardian medicine will not help."

Midgard. The word was familiar to Ellie. She'd heard it before on a documentary once. For all the strength in her confused brain, she couldn't remember what it was exactly. "We shouldn't be out in the open then," she said. "Sitting in this rot isn't going to help Harry find us, is it?"

"Heimdall."

"Henry. Harry. Hannah," she said childishly, her teeth beginning to chatter. Loki stood up silently, despite his own wounds, he didn't grunt like she did. Ellie wavered, using the wall to help her up.

The strange man had already lifted Frigga up and was disappearing out of the alley without another word. Ellie went after them. From behind, Loki's hobble was more obvious. His thickly-made outfit could not hide the rips in his skin. Leather rubbed the slices unapologetically and soon Loki would be outwardly suffering.

Ellie took hold of Frigga's other arm, swooping into view.

"Why are you doing this?" Loki demanded cruelly. She snapped her eyes to him, suddenly feeling tired of his consistent need to argue. Anyway, at the rate she was going, she needed to save her lungs. He pressed, "you will answer, child."

"Child?" She said breathlessly. "Somehow, I saved this woman's life. Me. You may have saved mine, but by chance it was me that ended up here tonight. Usually I take the train to work, but today I drove and you should be grateful. So, just shut your entitled mouth and let me help," she ended up spitting. Her fingertips were freezing, and her body was numb. If he were to falter, she'd fall and smash into a thousand pieces on the floor. Then she remembered: "Your Highness."

The atmosphere was tense again. Ellie felt a sense of relief, saying what needed to be said cleared out her clogged mind. A handy trait she'd learned from the Sisters. Those bastards would be proud.

"So, are we, are heading to some underground cult cave? Or a headquarters?"

"Neither. We must reach an area Heimdall can see."

Ellie looked up at the windows around her. There was just darkness. This Heimdall guy must live close by.

"What's his address? London is confusing enough as it is in the daytime."

"Yggdrasil."

Ellie swallowed, her head felt like it was packed with cotton balls. "Bit exotic for a British street name…" she murmured. "I mean I live down Crumpet Street, for God's sake.

Thankfully, the dry conversation had become more civilised. It was the cloud of exhaustion that hung over them both, emitted from the Alkár that Loki possessed. The prince could feel it pressed to his chest, pulsing against his heart.

Ellie glanced at Loki. He was immensely pale, the sweat on his face glistened under the streetlamps. Frigga's weight wasn't causing his discomfort.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Loki twisted his face, scrunching his nose and lips together tightly.

He led her out of the alleyway, into an open road lined with terraced houses. Violently grunting, he tripped and they were all forced to a stop. Ellie's wide eyes travelled down his face and saw the soaked torso. She said his name, her voice quivering, but he couldn't muster a reply.

Frigga's body weight did not match her stature. She felt like a block of stone, as did Loki. Ellie felt the strength leave her as she held onto Frigga with one arm and attempted to reach her son with the other.

"Oh shit. Loki," Ellie gasped. "Are you, are you alright?"

Cowering over, one hand grasped his chest and the breaths became raspy. After several moments, he exhaled a huff and re-joined Ellie.

Frigga's immense weight left her. However, Loki looked several times worse than before. His eyes were sunken and dark, his lips ghostly pink. To Ellie, these two were deep in some Satanic shit.

"W-We're nearly there," she quivered. Loki's head snapped sideways, his lips pursed and spitting the next few words "how could you possible understand where we need to go? How could you fathom the-?"

Ellie's fingers dug into Frigga's waist. Her arms were on fire, her vision was becoming blurry and this stranger had the audacity… "It's just a saying!" she snapped. "I'm trying to be, I don't know, comforting? Get off my dick!"

"Hmph," Loki griped.

Frigga's feet dragged over the cobblestones, her ruined boots catching every now and then. As they reached the end of the road, Ellie's vision began to blur.

"Tell me which way. If we stop, I'll collapse," she begged breathlessly.

"We must travel left," he sounded stern, but Ellie could hear supressed agony in his voice. His foot was causing more trouble than he let on.

Loki looked up, his deep eyes boring into the night sky. Travelling through the galaxies, the stars and ethereal cities.

Upon entering a Square, Loki stopped and continued to stare upwards. The Square was an open space, large and extravagant with a water fountain in the middle. Made of stone and ancient cobble, Ellie wished they'd stopped near the bench beside the feature.

Ellie looked to Loki, who was muttering again. He murmured Heimdall's name and several others; enchantments. Heimdall was what? A God? A helicopter?

"Loki, what are you doing?" she begged, searching for a slither of what he saw. As she peered into the endless oblivion of night, she searched for own God, for his great hand sliding through the curtain of stars and saving them.

"Heimdall, open the bifrost!" Loki gasped.

Eurelia's vision twisted, doubled, and she knew she was going to die. Blood, or car headlights. Would the car hit her fast enough to knock her out straight away?

Light burned her entire figure, blinding her as if she'd been sleeping in a black room and the curtains had been flung open.

The whiteness turned yellow, red, blue and green.

Ellie struggled to take another breath or find something to hold onto except for Frigga. They were both definitely dead; entering heaven together.

Yet, all stairways must come to an end. Feeling as if she'd been thrown from the cylinder of light, she tripped and sagged against the floor, a golden floor, which turned into a sea of safety.

Ellie felt dizzy. Her skull buzzed. Wrapping her arms around the woman tighter she watched through quickly blurring eyes as dark figures descended upon her. Overwhelmed, the only thought on her mind was: _did I take Beethoven's video tape out_?

* * *

**References:**

\- Yggdrasil - the mythical tree which connects the nine worlds.

\- Ginnungagap - the void in the universe before air, Earth and all living things.

\- "Lidet er om den mans vrede, som ingen vurder." - If you cannot bite, never show your teeth.

\- Alkar stone – Icelandic for Elves.

\- Aknuk El Vira mismantos knitos eferma litos varom merda – is an ancient latin spell for dark impowerment. I know Wargs usually can't speak but I like the idea of them being communicative.

* * *

_please review, let me know what you think of the beginning of this adventure_

_x_


	2. Orenda

Worship of the Gods

_The beauty of truth:  
Whether it is good or bad,  
It is liberating_

Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

* * *

Chapter Two: Orenda

Loki had no intention of saving the human. Without the Bifrost's transportation, he had used his own power to traverse across the universe to save his mother. Against the consort of the council, his brother and Heimdall, he had been seething when he arrived on Midgard.

Frigga's plea, her desperation for aid triggered a part of his brain he preferred to keep muted: empathy. If he allowed his power to run riot, he would not survive the hoard of emotions every being omitted. His own feelings had been tarnished the moment he landed on the foreign realm.

Reputation tarnishing like the varnish on a beggar's money pot, Loki openly gritted his teeth as he had no choice but to allow the human to help him. He clutched Frigga tightly as they clumsily landed in the Bifrost's chamber. She slid down his side and the Midgardian subsided the floor in a impoverished, bloody heap.

Loki leered at the Aesir guards rushing towards them. Heimdall stepped down from the Bifrost's key and reached for the Queen. He was sizeable, even compared to the Kings-guard and swept Frigga into his arms fluidly. The orange glint of his eyes met the raven prince's once more.

"Where were you?" Loki cursed, grateful the weight of his mother was lifted. "You were ordered to return us to Asgard as soon as I was with the Queen." Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he watched the gatekeeper with primal intensity.

Heimdall eyed the Midgardian, his brows furrowed. "There was an interference. Something my wandering eyes could not perish," Heimdall said. "A power source."

Wrapped in his leather overcoat, the jewel hummed against Loki's skin. He could sense the rippling power. "The Alkar…" He ghosted a hand on his chest.

Heimdall watched Loki; gold eyes seeing through the prince's protective spell. "I saw the Queen had found it. I could not open the Bifrost until she got rid of the wargs. The Midgardian…" Loki considered her finally; her unconscious state on the floor. He felt repulsed. "I saw her only for a moment, in the Midgardian transport and then… nothing."

For decades, Asgardian Gods visited Midgard and wandered amongst them as story-tellers. Loki had only been there once, in disguise, listening to the stories of his father and brother. He thought Midgardian's were ambitious creatures, with little respect for one another; selfishness their most despicable trait. Emotions were the rife and ruin of them. It was why the Midgardian had wanted to help Frigga and himself.

And he despised her for it.

"Your Highness," Heimdall said. The Aesir guards around them were in a protective formation, waiting for his orders. All of them were incomprehensibly gawking at Ellie. "What shall we do with her?"

Loki detested the realisation that he had bought one of them to his homeland. They had pledged never to touch Midgard again. The emotional turmoil of the realm had caused many wars for them before. He should've left Ellie in the rotting streets of the city.

Hot with penitence, Loki could not deny her courage. His clenched his fist for a moment and then crouched. He pressed a finger to her forehead and channelled a flame of energy into her.

Ellie absorbed the warmth of his touch, opening her eyes with a slither of vitality. For a moment, the murky brown of her eyes beheld Loki's gaze. He wanted her to be frightened; covetted her to know how little she was compared to Asgard; how insignificant, childish and ignorant.

Ellie's dark eyes focused on his face. Her eyelids fluttered, opening and closing slowly. She wasn't completely herself; this would feel like a dream. The Midgardian's eyes blinked harder and distress painted her face.

A thin cry resonated from her lips. She scrambled backwards like a trapped wild animal.

"_Skreyja tik_!" Loki snapped, unapologetically losing his temper. Eyes blazing, he watched her struggle to stand. She gaped at the Aesir and Loki and Frigga as she slipped from the mud and blood wetting her clothes. Scraping brown handprints tattooed the golden floor. "Enough!" the Prince demanded.

Ellie glunched, suddenly feeling an urge to hiss. An insult itched inside her throat. She found her body was shivering with energy from Loki's touch. Her hearing was painful as a fresh set of footsteps entered the grand chamber. Ellie swayed, her eyes darting to plump woman storming towards them.

Loki and woman were acquainted. Quite well as Ellie saw. He grimaced at her, his straight-set shoulder sagging slightly. They began to converse in an unattainable language and Ellie could only watch Loki. He was standing awkwardly, one arm across his waist and the other hanging limply at his side.

"_Hon á Miðgarði_," Loki looked her over with disturbing inspection. "We must converse in British English; the contemporary form of dialect in their Northern Hemisphere."

Ellie wrapped her arms across herself, her fingers curling over the bloody sleeves. The Prince's gaze slid down her face. Her forehead was scraped open, a splodge of blood trickled down her nose. With a split lip and blood creeping around her neck, Loki could not count the number of injuries by eye. Loki noticed the quivering leg; bitten by a warg.

From his own wounds, he realised the dark magic of a warg bite was consuming her as well. She would soon perish if left unattended.

Loki pulled his eyes away from Ellie. "Where is my father?" he demanded one of the guards.

"Hunting with your brother. I shall send word," a guard said hurriedly.

Loki nodded stiffly. "Take the Queen-Mother back to the palace. Heimdall you must tell Odin what has happened this night. You must tell him of your blindness."

"I have seen Frigga's mind," Heimdall began. "I saw the girl... use..."

"Do not speak of it," Loki bit, eyeing the numerous Aesir guards around them. He glanced at his mother's limp body with a pained expression, knowing he could be of no use.

He found his neck had become stiff. His body was shutting down, forcing him to rest and heal. Taking a slow step forwards, his chest burned with pain and nausea made Loki bring a hand to his stomach. Dark magic swamped his chest and bloodied hands. It coated him like oil, making him feel filthy.

The middle-aged woman at his side had conducted an examination of the Queen-Mother and returned to Loki. She took out a fabric pouch and jostled it. Strips of material burst and manifested into a stretcher.

The Norse Prince met the middle-aged woman's eyes. She was Ingrid, the head-healer. Her crevice-deep wrinkles around her mouth and eyes deepened. "Oh, Loki," she said, "what mischief have you gotten yourself into now?

"I'll never tell," he said lightly, struggling to smile. "You know by now." His body swayed and he buckled into the stretcher that appeared in front of him. Blood pooled into the cotton material and he struggled to turn onto his back.

Ellie, numb and unable to focus, walked forwards in a zombie state. She reached Loki's side, her bleeding fingernails skimming the edge of the stretcher.

Up close, the stench of human made his nose burn. He stared up at her, taken aback by how she dared come near him in his homeland.

"Where are we?" she asked gently, peering into him like a child. "Are we – are we dead?"

The Bifrost Gateway was a domed room made of gold. The walls were intricately designed with a dozen languages that intertwined protection and harmony over Asgard. Heimdall, himself, had cast spells over the portal and no enemies had breached the city's walls in hundreds of years.

Ingrid shot the human a disordered glance. The smile dropped off her face as she watched Loki hold Ellie's gaze. Fear and panic consumed the Midgardian woman. Both Asgardians sensed her racing heartbeat, but there was a ferocious courage which kept her heart beating.

"What is your name?" Ingrid enquired. Ellie's watery gaze snapped up to Ingrid's.

Loki exhaled, his own strength slipping away. He reached up and pressed another finger to Ellie's forehead. He urged a slice of warm slumber into her conscious mind. In return, he consumed her exhaustion, fear and wonder.

Both of their eyes rolled back. Ellie slipped to the floor as Loki's outstretched hand went limp at his side.

The pair, exhausted and wounded, were then carried into the great kingdom with more unanswered questions than answers.

* * *

Ellie could not say for definite if she fainted or whether she had actually just fallen asleep quite quickly. When she awoke, she became quite aware of the bed she was lay in and a shimmering canopy above her.

She felt completely fine. Neither dizzy or sick, she lay there with a body that just felt heavy. _Lord, is this your Heaven_? she begged wordlessly.

The ringing in her ears began to ease. She could hear chatter, laughter and the soft clang of crockery.

"Good morning, my lady," a soft voice appeared beside her. "How are you feeling?"

Ellie jumped, cricking her neck. She groaned and squinted up at a woman. It was a beautiful woman, the very same who appeared when she first arrived... here? The woman was dressed in royal blue with a red apron over her bosom. Altogether, she appeared human. She smiled brightly, going to touch Ellie's face with a white cloth.

"What, uh, what are you doing?" she leaned away, pulling a face like a cat would if you presented it with a vegetable.

"You are sweating. I'm just going to relieve your temperature."

"My what?" she blurted.

Another woman appeared beside this one. She was elderly, with grey curly hair pulled into a bun. A realisation bubbled to Ellie's conscious mind. "Is this a hospital? Was I in an accident?"

The original woman waved her hand at the new one. "That's enough, Aslaug. Return to your station. I will care for her." Aslaug watched Ellie's face for another moment and then she was gone. Ellie looked back at the elderly lady.

"How are you feeling?" she asked once more. "I am Ingrid, one of the Aesir healers. I have been requested by the Queen-Mother to care for you."

"Where am I?" Ellie asked.

Ingrid did not appear fazed by the question. She had been informed by the prince of their Midgardian mishap. Besides, she had dealt with her fair share of concussed patients. "You are in the infirmary, Eurelia Adamson.

You've been asleep for several days. Progress is well, far more excelled than we expected. The infection is completely out of your system, but clotting is still an issue.

I must ask you to remain still for the time being and if you need help with relieving yourself, you need only ask one of the attendees."

Ellie nodded numbly. The more she woke, the more she wanted to stand and run. Her fight or flight senses were returning. Within, she felt the gears turning like someone had blown dust off of them and they were picking up speed.

"You can sleep if you wish," Ingrid gently offered. She raised a hand and a glittering orange veil appeared over Ellie's entire body.

Goosebumps prickled her skin. She watched, the orange glisten reflected in her brown irises. A yellow ripple shimmied through the see-through blanket and then Ingrid was swiping it away. It disappeared into nothing; like magic.

Ellie stared at Ingrid. "What was that?"

"I was scanning your vitals. You blood pressure is low, but with rest you shall recover. We sought to your infection, but you must sleep now, Ellie," Ingrid said. "I will retrieve an elixir for a peaceful sleep." She walked off.

Ellie craned her neck after her, pushing herself onto her elbows. She felt her muscles moan in agony. Her spine was shooting sharp stabs of pain into her head. Ellie touched temple and felt the rough bandage.

Woozy, she dragged her legs to the side of the bed and slipped out of the covers. Ellie let out a cry, nearly buckling under her weight. Her legs wobbled. She took several steps forwards and lurched against the bedside table. With the rosary wrapped safely back on, Ellie rubbed her eyes. "Worst hangover ever," she groaned.

When she was a child, she had taken the abstinence against alcohol, but university was rife with temptation and once she started drug-induced celebrations, it was hard to stop.

_"I really shouldn't," she said, holding her wrist aloft. _

_Jane, her house-mate, who had just drank half a glass of Sambuca, grinned, and pushed the cup into her hand. "For me?" she said. _

_At first, Ellie imagined the Sisters were behind Jane. They were watching and waiting for her to sin so they could rain down upon her a fury which still frightened her into adulthood. There was always the cupboard; the nailed, crucifixion cupboard. And they would call her by her Saint's name. _

_She took the glass from Jane and drank deeply. _

The soft gown crinkled over her legs. It was white, baggy and open like a pillowcase. Someone had taken her clothes; her favourite boots. One of her legs was covered in thick bandages while her thigh appeared to be stained with an odd pink bruise. Ellie gritted her teeth together as she felt a spark of pain.

As soon as her toes touched the floor, an orange veil fluttered before her. Ellie stumbled back, eyes wide and let out a yell, "whoa! Holy shit." The medical assessment magic rippled unhappily as the Midgardian drew the attention of the rest of the room.

Asgardians stared at the strange woman, baffled by her reaction and language. The Læknar, a physician, and Ingrid were baffled and at a momentary loss for words. How do they calm her down? Put her to sleep? How would they usher her back to bed?

"My lady..." Ingrid began, but a Stromkarl zoomed from behind her and towards the human. The water sprite had been attending to one of the maidens who had recently given birth. She usually occupied the court as her music soothed newborns, children and the elderly. Her gift would have been useful in calming a anxious Midgardian, she thought as she fluttered in front of Ellie.

Ellie's eyes darted around the room again. Just as she spotted a door, the fly-type object appeared; the Stromkarl appeared. Ellie swatted at the air and moved backwards. She stared around like a wild animal fighting off a bee.

The white sprite darted out of the way and hovered just out of arms reach.

"Please, my lady," it said in a high-pitched voice.

Screaming, the Ellie's eyes nearly burst from her skull.

The entire medical ward was woken by the noise and they watched the newcomer. Ingrid swallowed nervously, aware of the Kingdom's gossip and how it would definitely be exhumed by Ellie's behaviour.

Ingrid said Ellie's name again, approaching her slowly. It panicked Ellie further, she continued to swing her arms around and barrelled towards an archway.

"Someone get the guards!" Aslaug demanded in alarm. "Hurry!"

"The Guardsmen are on their way!" another voice cried. Ellie sped from the room, shooting past several men holding long weapons.

They were dazed for a heartbeat and then started for her.

"Halt!" they yelled, "in the name of the King!"

Adrenaline pumped through her faster when she realised she was being chased. Ellie rounded a corner, nearly slamming into a door. She ripped it open and bolted through several more doors. As she closed a particularly heavy one with her body slumped against it, she felt the door shake with the weight of guards clattering on the other side.

"Just… _just fuck off_!" she cried.

Taking off again, the building she was in became a maze. It was a labyrinth of walls and doors, and voices and gold. Everything was too bright. What on Earth was that thing she'd seen?

As Ellie hurried through a doorway, she entered a grand hall. Her head could scarcely comprehend it. The sheer size was enough to make her nauseous. Hundreds of feet high, nearly half a mile upwards as well as hundreds of feet longways. Floor patterned royal yellow, the pillars were another shade of gold and they were as thick as tree trunks.

On Ellie's right was a throne. Servants swept the ground but came to a halt when she appeared.

Ellie made a beeline for another door and heard loud voices behind her.

The guards were some distance away. Seven or eight of them, dressed in armour and holding spears. They surrounded a stout white-haired man adorned in a long azure cloak. He stormed towards her and the sight of him evoked submissive fear within her.

A far-off ringing noise, an alarm siren, made her feel dazed.

She backed up and took off running towards sunlight. Skidding out the archway, she lifted a hand to shield her eyes and fell forwards to heavily lean against a stone wall. It took a moment to adjust to the weather, but her mouth dropped open at the sight of a courtyard.

Ellie was positive she was still hallucinating when a band of horses entered the space with half a dozen limbs dangling out their underbelly. Eight, to be exact. "Oh, Mary, Joseph and Jesus."

She backed up, moving her hands before her face and turning it over. She stretched her fingers and examined her skin. It was covered in scabs and bruises. She brutually poked a dark purple one on her wrist and it stung.

A rough hand grabbed her. She whipped around and found herself staring into a sharp black eye. This man had a single eye and the other was covered by a gold patch. He released an aura of demand which nearly took Ellie to her knees.

The sinewy hand attached to her arm felt like a limpet suckered so a rock. Ellie gave a brutal yank and stumbled, finding that he was not holding on hard at all.

"And who the hell are you?" she demanded.

"I am Odin. Chief of the Aesir and King of Asgard."

Ellie was at a loss of reality's grasp. "I, uh, God…" she stuttered.

"You do not belong here," he answered.

"I mean, I woke up… _here_. Wherever that is and whatever it is. I don't know anything. I mean I…" And then she exhaled in defeat. "No, I don't think I do belong here."

Odin, the Allfather, stared at Ellie with a hard, calculating eye. Ellie breathed heavily, unable to keep her face blank. This _King _was otherworldly. From the moment Ellie laid eyes on Frigga and the monster, she knew she was entering a dimension beyond her mundane life. From the flying fairy to the golden halls, she knew she was inferior in every way.

Breaking eye contact with Odin's single eye, Ellie looked over his apparel. Rich linen: embroidered with silver symbols across the overcoat and bodice. The belt of gold matched his hose and rich silk cuffs. The square shape reminded Ellie of a tudor outfit; the annoyed shadow Odin bore was very much similar to a King's malice.

"I'm not supposed to be here," Ellie finally broke the silence. She let out a hysterical laugh, "this is completely mad and I'm very much in my own little world of Paradise, uh, Heaven? Or perhaps a dream? I mean, you can't make up faces in dreams, so I must've seen you somewhere before. Come to think of it you do look like Stan the Butcher from Camden market…"

The Captain of the guardsmen stepped towards her, a man named Lachie. He raised his spear, his knuckles white. "What purpose do you bring to Asgard?"

Ellie's eyes fell to the pointed tip of his weapon. It was primitive compared to an automatic rifle or loaded weapon. She raised her hands, looking to the face of her questioner. "You bought _me _here, if I remember."

"You infiltrated the mission of her Royal Highness and threatened her life." The group of soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons, returning to a protective stance. Odin stood in the middle of them all, his face unreadable.

"I _saved _her life," Ellie said. "Frigga, you mean? I hit that creature with my car."

"A tactic to lure the Queen into a trap. Are we meant to believe your intentions were pure? Say _his _Royal Highness had not showed, where would your intentions have led you? What would you have done with the objective?"

Ellie shifted her weight onto the one leg. The odds of her leaving without a spear shoved through her throat were slim. After the warg's threats, she was left with little inspiration to try and fight.

"I don't work for some Sith-lord," her voice grew. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't want to kill Frigga and I don't give a toss about your apple."

"Sith-Lord?" Lachie repeated the word slowly. He did not recognise the word, it was alien to him. Ellie's discomfort began to unfurl.

"Where's Frigga?" she demanded. "Where's Loki?"

"You are forbidden from entering the royal chambers," another warrior hissed; Baldur.

Odin raised a hand, silencing his protectors. "My son has… ordered that you to do not approach him," the Allfather said, his wrinkled features still unable to display any emotion. Ellie's stomach twisted. "My wife, however, has allowed visitation if you wish."

"Are they okay?"

As soon as the words left her lips, the King's head tilted, and his eyes narrowed. The warriors faltered slightly, glancing at Odin. The human girl's sincerity took them by surprise. "If honesty is what you are fabricating then I shall indulge," Odin offered. "I do not trust you. You hurtle through my Kingdom like a troll and I have a dozen different advisors telling me different things about your presence."

"That's quite a predicament," she murmured.

"Tis," Odin said, rather lightly. Ellie's dropped her arms at her sides, feeling her heart thudding a bit slower in her chest. "Captain, take the human to the Queen's healing chamber."

Curtly nodding, Captain Lachie flipped his spear and held it at his side. He was over six feet tall, middle aged and stern looking. Ellie peered up at him and swallowed. The captain ordered several to join him, all of them continued to hold their weapons.

Odin proceeded past Ellie. She watched him disappear down another corridor and the loud bang of a door closing followed.

"Come," Lachie ordered. Ellie hobbled after him, remaining silent as she took in her surrounding properly. Although the warriors kept straight faces, they could not help but shoot the human curious looks. Lachie was unaffected; enemy or non-enemy was all that mattered.

The corridors of Odin's Kingdom were tall, rising high into the air. Walls adorned with shimmering artwork and words unreadable by Midgardians, the portraits and landscapes wove into one another. They told stories of great adventures and heroes.

Ellie recognised Odin in one of the paintings. He was riding an eight-legged horse, a lightning bolt shot out of the stormy sky and into his outstretched arm. Around him, female and male warriors were screaming their war-cries. The artist was gifted. Ellie could see each wrinkle and pore. She slowed and reached a hand.

Lachie grunted, taking Ellie's attention from the artwork. She winced, her leg beginning to ache more as she pulled her arm back and continued after him.

They arrived at the edge of a large hallway. On either side of a set of double doors were curved, black marble staircases. Soldiers stood on the balcony above, their hardened gazes on Ellie. She swallowed as they raised their arms, pulling back the bow string with sharp arrows pointing at her heart.

"Captain," a deep voice called. Ellie's eyes dropped to a huge figure appearing from the double doors. Over six and a half feet tall, with shining blond hair and red armour; he was startling.

"Prince Thor," Lachie greeted.

Ellie's breathing shallowed as the word struck a chord in her chest. Such familiarity and yet none of the puzzle pieces were fitting together. Her head began to ache as she tried to match the man's name to fact.

Nothing.

"Mother is waiting for the human girl," Thor's voice was deep and smooth. His eyes slid over the Captain and to Ellie. "What is your name?"

"Ellie," she stuttered. "Ellie Adamson, uh, your Highness."

"Your exploits are proving troublesome to reign in, Ellie Adams," Thor said. He crossed his arms across his chest and Ellie watched the gigantic muscles tense and clench. Surely, he could crush a skull with one of them. "Screaming murder out of the medical sanctuary, speaking out of term against my father and staining the halls with your blood."

His bright blue eyes fell to her wounded leg and she followed his gaze. The bandages were turning scarlet. Ellie's cheeks burned. "I did not mean to. I'm just a bit… out of my depth here."

"Indeed," Thor muttered, focusing on the human's face. "Of course, if you cause anymore gossip to spread like fire then the only way to deal with contamination is to take out the match."

Ellie gasped, her eyes wide with fear. She blubbered a string of words incoherent, even to herself. Thor's stern face erupted into a large grin. He began barking with laughter, a joy which lit up his entire face.

Lachie began snickering, his posture relaxed. Thor clamped a hand on the Captain's shoulder, eyes dancing with amusement.

"All this negativity on such a shining day, Captain!" he boomed. "Let the light flood your veins! You're warriors; not mourners." On command, the other soldiers unwound their tense muscles and allowed grins to crawl onto their faces. Out of the entire royal household, Thor's ability to land a joke, even in death, was remarkable.

"Quite right, Sire," Lachie grinned. "Give it to the girl; she can run."

"Hundreds of years training and you got stitch chasing a Midgardian child?"

Lachie scoffed, "I was enjoying a wild leaf stew at the time. Completely ruined my supper, Sire."

"Can't scold you too much, then. Sprinting from the healing chamber to the throne room is an achievement." Thor's words made Lachie shake his head in ridicule. The two exchanged several words in a foreign language.

Ellie shuffled behind the Captain, swaying slightly with ache. Thor and Lachie finally stopped conversing and Thor leaned towards Ellie, bending his knees slightly. Ellie felt like a child being scolded. "If it turns out you're not a manipulative little traitor sent to destroy every soul in this Kingdom, perhaps we'll have a race of our own," he said. Despite the light-hearted tone, she sensed her doom teetered on the edge of a very sharp knife.

Thor bid them farewell and disappeared in search of his father. Ellie continued after Lachie and followed him through the double doors.

"My Lady," Lachie said, "the Midgardian."

Ellie entered the wondrous room and was lost once again in the royalty of Odin's Kingdom. The room was round, with a dome ceiling covered in hanging chandeliers. Lights sparkled, despite there being no open curtains or natural sun.

A large bed was situated in the middle of the room, with half a dozen healers dotted around it. Frigga sat upright, watching Ellie with unexplainable curiosity. Unsure of what to do, Ellie meekly hampered up to the bed. Should she bow? Or curtsy?

"Ellie," Frigga's voice was silky, making Ellie relax. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise," she answered awkwardly, trying to sound polite, "your Highness."

Frigga's beautiful face looked worn, even with a returning olive-toned shine. The dark half-moon shapes under her eyes were nearly purple. Her red curls were pinned up, out of the way of the bandages peeking across her collarbone.

The Queen gently flicked her hand; dismissing the healers. When they were alone, she beckoned for Ellie to take the armchair beside her.

Ellie slumped into the soft material and exhaled loudly.

"I suppose you are exceptionally confused," Frigga said, her gaze flickering across Ellie's exhausted form. "The feeling of being stranded on a world that is not your own can be… consuming."

Frigga was expressing how she felt that night. Ellie could scarcely imagine how she would have felt if she'd awoken this morning to a demon-world, full of wargs and macabre creatures. She chewed the inside of her cheek.

"I doubt the Allfather was welcoming," she continued, "he's always been a fierce protector of his Kingdom and of me. That's why I asked you here, against my husband's wishes. Despite the rumours, the gossip and speculation; only two know the truth of what happened on Midgard."

Ellie watched Frigga intensely. "Me and you," she murmured.

Frigga nodded. "Perhaps you are a spy. Perhaps you have plans to poison a goblet or bring Hel to Asgard."

"I don't," Ellie started, her voice quivering, "I really just want to go home."

Frigga glossed over the plea. Ellie felt more lost than ever. "You know what happened on your planet, Ellie. You used Alkar and channelled enough energy to harness a hidden power."

Memories flashes in her mind. The guttural growl of the warg, the slam of her car and the screaming. Ellie leaned forwards, her hand to her mouth. "I killed something," she whispered. "More than one. I murdered two of those things."

"Death shouldn't be such a frightening concept, child."

"It is to me. How do I have the right to kill something? I was so… inhumane." Or was she? The wargs would've ripped Frigga apart and Ellie as well if she'd have hung around for long enough. If she'd have ran off the bridge, the wargs would've followed her and massacred London. "No, I'm not," Ellie groaned and squeezed her eyes together, "but I don't understand any of this, Frigga."

Frigga's voice was vehement for the following conversation. The quip of her tongue and knowledge hooked Ellie by the throat and dragged her into the depths of a universe that only lived in history books. Ellie's eyes widened in disbelief and her face contorted with each fact.

Frigga animatedly explained how the universe was a central tree called Yggdrasil. There were Nine Worlds and human beings were created from a being name Ymir.

Frigga's eyes glazed over with wonderous knowledge as she relived her past. She explained that Odin was the son of a giantess and it was Odin's ancestors who created Midgard and built mountains from the bones of Ymir. He then used Ymir's skull to create the heavens, and the sparks became the suns and moons.

Asgard was created above Midgard, with a Bifrost used to watch the Nine Worlds prosper. Heimdall was the gatekeeper and his eyes burned with the fire of a sun.

Asgardians were a race of Aesir; strong and authoritative humanoids with the power of Gods. They had been worshiped by humans for hundreds of years, but Odin retracted his presence from the planet as they became a selfish species. Frigga warned Ellie that Odin would remain uncaring to her, as one human suffers the incoherence's of their race.

Frigga watched Ellie rise from the chair and stumble into the bathroom.

Inside, Ellie steadied herself against the basin. She exhaled a long breath and fought to inhale with a form of normality. It was too warm; the heat was overpowering.

Turning the tap handle, she splashed cool water onto her face and lifted it up to stare at herself in the mirror. Water had spoiled her hair, it dripped down her face and caked her eyelashes. Through the slight blur, she gripped the firm frame.

The mirror was abstract. It existed as a type of thing. Ellie knew that it had to be real.

However, its concrete classification was: _I am looking into a mirror on a wall, which is part of a castle, which is part of a city from a myth_.

Ellie curled her fingers into the glass, feeling her nails bend. Norse mythology. The Christianisation of Scandinavia and Northern Germanic folklore had erased truth.

_Heavenly Father, what am I to do with this_?

Or was it some profound hallucination coming to haunt her. If this had of happened several years ago, then it would have been understandable. Philosophy students were renowned for dosing themselves up with hallucinogenic and Ellie was not one of the saints she used to study. Hell, even they were hooked up on drugs.

She nervously entered the Queen's chamber again and sat down, oddly pale and sweating.

"So," Ellie began, "what does this all mean for me? I hope you're not expecting me to go back and start chanting about Norse mythology on a soap box."

"This world is made from the bodies of Gods, Eurelia. The love and kindness, but also the cruelty and malice lives around us. Sometimes the Nine Worlds are consumed by evil and there is very little we can do to return it to the light.

When our paths crossed, I was on a mission to collect Àlkar. It is the life force of Alfheim, the realm of the light elves. It had been hidden on Vanaheim for a long time. As soon as the wargs sensed its existence, they came for it. I panicked and fell through a portal into your world; into Midgard."

Silence fell upon the room Ellie waited several moments before speaking. "So," she said quietly, "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Were you?"

Ellie's eyes snapped to Frigga's, the breath nearly disappearing from her lungs as she had always found her existence a confusing and overbearing thing. "I had to have been," she said. "I'm no one. I'm a curator for an Aristotle exhibition. I'm nothing."

Frigga leaned back into her pillows, beginning to look weary. She was healing, surely weak and would need to rest completely soon. The Queen gave her a gentle smile, "yet, you're here."

* * *

References

_Norse Curse words_  
\- _Skreyja_– incompetent  
\- _Tik_– dog  
_\- Orenda –_ (n.) a mystical force present in all people that empowers them to affect the world, or to effect change in their own lives.


	3. Truth by Contradiction

Worship of the Gods

_It is an ironic habit of human beings  
to run faster when they have lost their way._

Rollo May, Philosophy

* * *

_Three: Truth by Contradiction_

It was tedious being a religious woman with a philosophy degree. Ellie used to believe the world was built upon disorder and chaos. From war to pestilence, to oppression and inequality; nothing appeared to be resolved. There was a higher power which could only do so much and it was humans who abused their freedom. The philosophers could only comment and question why such a world existed.

As Ellie stared up at the glistening ceiling, she decided it was not strange news that this place was extraterrestrial. It housed a communicative, excelled species. Their superiority came with chaotic similarities to Earth's. So, Ellie could only assume her God existed above even these beings.

Admittedly, a part of Ellie could've jumped for joy that the alien conspiracists had always been right. Her first experience with such people was the university society who attempted to rope her into their bizarre world.

_"Wanna hear about the reptilian shape-shifters who control our government?" a slender boy poked at her. He waved a handmade poster which depicted the Conservative Leader, Edward Heath, with green eyes. _

_Beside her, Jane snorted. "Please." She leaned into Ellie's ear. "These lot believe there's secret government groups who fight them off."_

_"It's true!" the boy guffawed. "They wear black suits and sunglasses to hide their identities." _

These aliens were not governmental conspiracies. They were once the devout the Gods of Midgard. Ellie dwelled on the treatment of of Norse mythology by historians. How stupid human beings were to belittle Norsemen and their religion. The scientific community dehumanised Scandinavian folklore, claiming it to be outdated foolishness. It was philosophers who adored Norse for their creativity and deities.

Now, Ellie was part of the Norse world many could only discuss. She tilted her head up, exposing her throat. A cool breeze swept over the skin and she curled back up to protect herself.

With Asgard came the creatures; the endless, blood-thirsty demons. Ellie held her throat with her hand, her eyes spiking with tears as she dared not close her eyes.

"I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen," Ellie prayed quietly, her hands came to clasp together. She pressed her lips to her Rosary and tucked it away, safely against her beating heart.

Logically, she in a position of healing. She assessed the damage to her body; the leg, the wrists and head covered in bandages. Ellie felt the bruises up her spine and chest, a crescent moon mark over her beasts from the steering wheel.

Physically, she was fine. Mentally, she was... consumed.

Her hands still felt the squelch of flesh. She clenched her fists, pushing her bitten fingernails against the palm. Inhaling, she pushed and pushed until a sharp pain spread, echoing along the receptors in her wrists. She had been seeing a psychiatrist every few weeks for a while. Self-loathing and a mixture of child-like confusion still clouded her judgement, deep within she feared abandonment again.

Ellie wanted to go home. Not that she felt as peace in her tiny apartment or at work, but it was a place she could retreat.

One person would call out for boss, a terrifying elderly man named Roberts would be phoning non-stop, wondering why she had not turned up for work. At least he missed her... missed her labour.

It had taken her a lot to get that job. Roberts was a cruel man who belittled the philosophical community, but his museum needed a curator. At first, he had been unimpressed by postgraduate, Catholic Philosopher but it was either her or a straggly-haired teenage boy who knew nothing about Aristotle.

Roberts' cruel voice would be echoing on her answer-machine. Perhaps he would swear as he demanded for an answer. He would never receive a phone call back.

_Phone call back_.

Ellie had no way of contacting anyone and the world around her seemed to just stare in disturbed confusion. Asgardian technology was excelled _yet _ancient.

Tremors shook her body as grabbed her bedsheet. She pulled the sheets to her face, holding them as she chewed the inside of her cheek aggressively. As she drifted back to sleep, copper flavouring covered her tongue. Ellie was lulled into a blood-indulged world once again.

* * *

After several days in the healing sanctuary, Ellie was becoming more relaxed. The stromkarl disturbed her when it flew around the beds, waving to patients with a toothy smile. Ingrid was pleasant to talk to as she didn't care about Asgardian gossip and treated Ellie as mundane as she would anyone else.

Ellie had no other visitors either. She was told that her full recovery would be necessary before an evaluation could be conducted. Ingrid was also updating Ellie on the condition of the Queen.

Loki, however, forced the healers into secrecy about his ailments. Ingrid chose to ignore Ellie whenever she asked of him.

Most of her attention was drawn around the Asgardian medical technology. She watched with morbid curiosity as an orange laser grew skin over the bite mark on her leg. It was still a sore, dark red colour but felt as if an angel had kissed it better.

"You're doing very well," Ingrid said gently, holding Ellie's hand tight as they shuffled across the room. "There we go. Much better than yesterday."

Ellie blinked, begging to take seat. "This would've taken months on Earth."

"Cells are alive." Ingrid explained. "I did learnt that Midgardians treat their bodies like machinery. You must respect the cells' and their little soul in order to mend them properly."

Another limp and grunt. "How long do you think it'll take humans to learn this stuff? How long did it take you?"

Ingrid smiled. "You ask many questions, Ellie." They shared an amused look. "We've had this for thousands of years. Human beings have only just discovered the blood and cell separator."

"And that's not amazing to you?"

"It's medieval to me," Ingrid laughed as if Ellie was the funniest person in the world.

"Wouldn't you want to go to Earth and teach them?"

Ingrid thought about this for several moment, looking off into the room for an answer. Ellie looked in the corner of the room, where a woman sat holding her baby to her breast. "I would love to see if their faces were as wondrous as yours," Ingrid finally said happily and then her face became serious. "I could never though. This is the way of the universe. I can't intervene with the events of it. Do you disagree?"

Ellie met her amused gaze and began laughing. "I do, but I can't be getting into a philosophical debate. I'd rather you drag my corpse back to Earth and leave me with a room of druggie Marxists." Ingrid didn't reply, failing to understand the human's joke. Still, the humorous edge to Ellie's voice made the healer feel relaxed.

As they made their way along the corridor, ambling past the guards and narrow windows, Ellie felt better than she had in days. "Can we go and see Frigga now?" she asked.

Ingrid gave her an unsure look. "You made yourself very weak running through the castle, Ellie. I advise against walking to the royal chambers. Let me get you a wheelchair."

"I can do it," Ellie said, her voice fierce with belief. She went to take another step and faltered, stumbling so Ingrid had to tighten her grip on her. "Maybe you're right."

"As usual." Ingrid fetched a wheelchair and soon the pair were off through the corridors.

Ellie took the time to watch her surroundings in awe. She stretched a hand out, her fingers flexing in the gentle air. The walls were so pristine that Ellie could see her reflection. A black bruise covered the side of her face and a healing scab along her jaw.

Many glanced at her, but with Ingrid's company they could assume she was another Asgardian taking air.

They entered the floor where Frigga was resting.

At the end of a long, narrow hall was Loki Odinson walking towards them. With his back straight and nose held in the air, he looked straight past her and Ingrid. Atop his head adorned a golden crown. It imitated branches circling the crown of his head and two thorns pricked up into horns. The yellow reflected speckles on his haunting cheeks. Grand Oxford-Blue fabric hung on his tunic and cape.

Breathless, Ellie recalled his sharpness on the bridge.

Sitting upright, she blinked quickly and smiled. "Loki! You're okay!" she attempted to rise. "How did you heal so quickly? Loki?"

Loki Odinson stormed past her without a word. Ingrid watched Ellie struggle to get his attention. The words visibly died on her tongue. She fidgeted in her wheelchair and strained to turn around.

Ingrid met the Midgardian's perplexed gaze and shook her head slightly. _Do not call for him again_.

He was an arm's reach away, with his back straight and head tilted upwards. The tiny branches of his crown buried into his hair. Ellie found it rather fitting. The sleek cape _swished_ like a snake retreating into its hovel.

The prince appeared completely uninjured. _These beings heal faster, _Ellie thought. "Did I do something wrong?" her voice echoed through the hall.

"You should have rightfully addressed him," Ingrid said. "Royalty and Godliness go hand-in-hand in this kingdom."

Curling her fingers around her Apostle's Creed, Ellie silently slouched back in her chair and thought deeply about her loyalties. The beads were cool to hold and helped to ground her beneath the overwhelming presence of tapestries, paintings and gold pillars.

Ingrid continued to push Ellie through the silence until they were at Frigga's door. They rapped thrice on the entrance and were beckoned inside by another healer.

"Your grace," Ingrid approached. "Miss Adamson requested she visit you. I felt it was allowed as I've held her in the healing chamber long enough."

Frigga smiled, closing the leather-bound book. "Of course, Ingrid. Had I been well enough, I would have been to see Ellie myself. But I have had to save my energy for the council meeting later."

"I understand. I shall leave you both, for now." Ingrid left Ellie beside Frigga's bedside and exited the room.

"You look better, your Highness," Ellie said pleasantly. She truly meant it. The Queen's smile was brighter and fuller than it had been. Still, there were bandages over her chest.

"As do you, Ellie," she said. "How are you finding Asgard?"

"Different. I've seen fairies, and talking toads, and a woman give birth to a baby with red eyes." Ellie stared off, recalling the strange memories. "Other than that, the food is divine." Frigga found this amusing, her grin widened.

"You and Volstagg will get along immensely if you to meet," she said idly and brushed the topic away before Ellie could ask who she was talking about. "I'm glad you chose to see me. It must be fate that you did. I was about to send word for you to be taken the Oratio Hall for the council meeting."

"What for?"

"My husband has been in many meetings about you in the last few days. There is something peculiar about you and about how the Alkar worked _for _you." Frigga became tense, her mind still confused by the situation. "It shouldn't have and there might be a reason that it did. After persuasion, we are going to present you with the Alkar and hopefully find out why."

Ellie's hand became clammy, beginning to dread the thought of seeing Odin again. He was petrifying. Nodding slowly, she looked away from the Queen and picked at the handle of her wheelchair.

"I saw Prince Loki. I thought he was injured. Were they not as bad as I thought? He's been walking around."

Frigga closed her eyes as a smile grew on her face gracefully. She sighed, "my son is healing in the royal sanctuary. He has been unable to leave for several days."

"But he's been strolling around. I swear I saw him!"

The Queen opened her eye and gave her a disturbed look. Ellie swallowed, "I mean, uh, your Highness, how can he be well enough to be up?"

"He is not. Surely by now you have learnt of my sons' reputation. Loki detests being seen as inferior, he becomes an illusion for the gossipers. What you have been witnessing was not my son, just a mirage."

Magic.

In her apartment, Ellie had a dingy Hitachi television set which projected movies and grey static. She remembered seeing her first tv when the nuns wheeled a Brionvega into the playroom one Friday evening. The children had been silenced, mesmerised by the static magic. Still, it baffled Ellie that he could make an image of himself appear; one able to touch and move.

"Can he not speak? Surely, it gives it away if he's just strolling 'round and ignoring everyone."

Frigga laughed lightly, "of course, he can speak. He's exceptionally talented in the arts of magick. Why would you believe he was ignorant?"

Ellie's cheeks became hot. "I, uh, tried to thank him, and he walked straight past. Well, I thought he was going to go _through _me."

"Oh, no, child. He can hear and see," the Queen said. There was a quietness afterwards. Ellie realised he had been ignoring her and so did Frigga. "He, well, he does enjoy his little tricks. Agitating people with them is his forte."

"I wasn't agitated. I just wanted to say thank you, your Highness."

"He's… aware that the events on Midgard might've shown him as weak or proven an inability of some sort."

"How could he think that? What he did to those creatures was insane. How could anyone see that as weak?"

"As a human, your views of weakness and strength are vastly different. The basis is, all three of us scarcely escaped with our lives."

"But-"

Frigga pleaded, "please, just leave him be, Ellie. When he's ready, he'll accept the praise of myself and his father. For now, he must deal with his inner turmoil." Ellie watched the Queen for a silent moment. The woman avoided her eyes, looking down at the fresh silk sheets and running a finger over the canular in her wrist.

"Okay," Ellie said regretfully.

"My Queen, the Allfather request the presence of-" Ellie and Frigga looked at the door where a royal guard had entered. His eyes fell on the human and he continued, "the presence of her royal majesty and the human."

"Perfect timing that you chose to visit, Ellie." Frigga smiled. "Inform my husband that I shall be with him shortly. Also bring a stretcher for Ellie, her leg is still healing-"

"Wait, no," Ellie interrupted. "I can walk." The guard and Queen gave her a look, but she insisted, "really, I can. Ingrid can help me. I don't want to be seen as a burden."

"Ellie, you won't be seen as a burden."

"I will. I know it. Let me walk there."

Frigga sighed, rubbing her forehead with her finger. "Fine, you may walk. Sir, bring Ingrid inside."

* * *

Through the high narrow windows of Oratio Hall, the light of the lowering sun covered the floor in orange stripes. The ornate chandelier which hung in the centre of the room glistened with white specks over the walls where long tapestries showed the faces of the Gods of the Nine Realms. Odin stood in front of Freyr's portrait, studying the deep brown of the Gods eyes and his bountiful smile.

"When the child be joining us?" Aelfred asked from the council table, his voice inquisitively scornful. Thor stirred behind him, looking away from the great light shining in the sky, with Loki running a finger over the feather of a quill. The only councillor outside of royal family was Aelfred, who was trusted with the guidance of Anaheim.

"Soon," Frigga said gently, "she left my chamber a while ago. Ingrid is helping her walk."

"She didn't wish to be carried?" he replied impatiently.

Loki and Frigga sensed the unease in the room, settling like an apprehensive blanket. And then the door opened.

Ellie held the bead labelled the Hail Holy Queen to her lips as she entered the Oratio Hall. She prayed to Mother Mary to give her gentle guidance in accepting whatever cruel words Odin or the other councillors had for her.

She inhaled, meeting the face of the King a stern man she didn't know. They immediately looked at her, their gazes sucking the courage out of her.

"Uh," Ellie stumbled. "Uh, hi." Odin gave Freyr's portrait a final, long-sweeping look and approached the table.

Thor was pleasantly welcoming, accosting her the moment he saw her. "Miss Adams, we are grateful you are well enough to join us. I have heard many a tale of how you are coping with Asgardian normalities." His grin widened, worrying Ellie as to what he meant. Probably her screaming at the stromkarl.

"Miss Adams," Odin said, polite and cool. "The Àlkar is the lifeforce of the Light Elves, they are a race of beings who rely upon the spiritual and astronomical presence of the stone." He shared a look with Aelfred and leaned over the table to lift a velvet blanket off of the jewel. It shone in the middle of the room as a blue diamond. Ellie found the information disconcerting, making her feel more uncomfortable and left out as she sat at the edge of the room.

"We understand this confusing for you, Ellie." The human finally noticed Frigga and Loki, sat beside each other. Frigga looked beautiful, elegant and untouched by wounds. She wore a beaded purple dress, with a matching hair piece that looked like a crystal crown.

Loki appeared the same as when she saw him in the corridor. His face was guarded and stony as he pulled his eyes away from the Àlkar and to Ellie's face. She felt a flustered stab in her chest and immediately looked back at Odin.

"What's this got to do with me? I didn't mean to throw it on the road or toss it about. Did I break it?" she suddenly asked.

"You cannot break the sacred stone of Alfheim," Aelfred said. Ellie was taken aback as she looked to the unknown man. "I am Aelfred. I help council the realm of Alfheim on behalf of his Holiness Freyr."

"Oh," Ellie replied feebly. "So, I didn't break it. What's it got to do with me still?"

"The Àlkar was imprisoned on Vanaheim and my wife went to retrieve it." Odin walked and settled behind Frigga, a strangely gentle hand went to her shoulder and she took it with one of her own. "We were to give it to Freyr as an inch of compensation for the loss of his realm. You see, the Light Elves were savagely attacked, their reigning Queen murdered and the Àlkar stolen. With their life source stripped from them and the last remaining members of the royal bloodline destroyed, the Light Elves were scattered."

"Now they rot," Aelfred continued, crossing his hands regally. "The Light Elves continue to die and wither away. Even Freyr slips further from his greatness."

"Ellie," Frigga said, "when you held the Àlkar it responded to you. It exhumed the power it has been forced to repress for so long. Power meant for the Light Elves."

Ellie was at a loss for words as she struggled to grasp onto what they were trying to say. She looked between each of them in the room and found the same reproachful, confused gaze on all of their faces. "I didn't mean to waste it," she said.

"You didn't waste it, Ellie," Frigga said, standing. "You set it free."

Thor appeared beside her and began pushing the wheelchair forwards. Right beside her, she found him to be the embodiment of a mountain. He emitted a rich odour, like a spice left in the sun. Ellie followed his gaze to the Àlkar.

Odin nodded to his son. "Take hold of it. Let us see if you are either a spy sent to harm my wife and son, or if you are more than you appear." Ellie swallowed nervously. She sensed Thor leaving her side and suddenly felt cold.

"I'm not a spy!" she said, her voice breaking. "_Fucking hell_. I didn't want to hurt Frigga or Loki. Why am I here? What could I prove by doing this?"

"Ellie!" Frigga scolded the disturbing language. "Do as we say, and this will be over for you."

Odin stood straighter, his gaze cold. "Touch the stone. Or we will use force."

Ellie looked between each person in the room, seeking a gentleness, a soft warmth. There was nothing to soften her tense shell. Momentarily, she clenched her fist and then proceeded to lean over the table.

Her outstretched arm was watched by half a dozen pairs of eyes, making Ellie feel like she was surrounded by hungry sharks ready to indulge in a bleeding corpse.

As her fingers hovered over the green stone, warmth spread through her fingertips. Light shimmered across the skin as the ornament appeared to emit its own power. She pressed her fingers to it, and it began to glow.

It blossomed with light, at first a startling green and then white. Growing and growing, like a circular wave. Ellie's brown eyes reflected the colour, absorbing its beauty like a halo in her iris.

"What's happening?" she breathed. A high-pitched noise, like choir angels emerged from the stone. There became louder and louder, transforming into a scream.

Ripping her hand away, she clutched it to her chest and breathed heavily. Her ears were ringing with a sharp pain. From the screams, she suddenly felt extreme agony and pain. Shakily she exhaled, and tears sprang to her eyes.

Loki stood up, staring at the jewel as if it was about to spring to life to attack them all. "Only a child of-"

"Silence, Loki," Odin interrupted. Ellie looked between them with wide, fearful eyes.

"W-What?" she asked. "What? A child of what?" No one answered, leaving the room full of apprehension. It choked Ellie and she suddenly cried: "tell me! Please? What are you talking about?"

"Enough of this for today," the King continued. "Let this day end. We will continue this another time. For now, I must speak with Aelfred alone and in the confidence of my counsellors."

Frigga exhaled slowly, closing her eyes at his words.

"Thor, fetch the guards and Ingrid."

Ellie waited in silence, staring at the space in front of her. When Ingrid appeared, Odin informed her that Ellie was to be moved to private chambers. She was well enough to finish healing in her own company.

"Wait, please, just tell me what you meant," Ellie pleaded. She looked at Loki, begging him with tears in her eyes. "What were you going to say? Loki, what did you mean?" Loki watched her silently, aware that his father was controlling the situation. His blue eyes snapped to Odin.

"Take her to the chambers. The guard have sent for a handmaiden." Odin looked back to Aelfred, turning away from Ellie. "Sleep well, Ellie Adams."

As the pair left the room, Frigga shared a look with her husband and Aelfred. "There is much to discuss, my love."

"I have sent word to Freyr," he said. "I shall contact the Völva and seek his council. There is less time than we imagined."

Ellie was returned to the healing sanctuary and told to gather anything she wanted. All of her possessions had been taken, by possessions it was just her old clothes. As for the Rosary, it was always strapped to her wrist, so the entire trip seemed pointless.

"Actually," Ellie finally said. "I'll take this." She grabbed the grey blanket from the duvet and bundled it into her arms. Ingrid smiled softly and took her to the third floor, far away from the healers.

It was a long corridor, one side open like a balcony so endless gardens could be seen. Ellie stared at the streams of flowers and trees as they fluttered against the lowering sun, red making them appear blood-stained. In all of the madness, she felt an itch of peace.

"Ellie," Ingrid brought her attention away from the nature. "This is Cecelia. She is a handmaiden. She will help make life a little more bearable here."

Cecelia was an Asgardian woman with bronze skin and white hair pinned back into a tight bun. She looked young, near Ellie's age. Unlike Cecelia, Ellie couldn't wipe the disturbed look off her face at the mention of a handmaiden. "A what?"

"I'm your handmaiden, my lady," Cecelia said, her voice soft, as if she hadn't shouted a moment in her life. Ellie asked her again, feeling stupid. "I will clean your room, wash your clothes, help you bathe. I am here to provide a service to you."

"I can clean my own clothes. I just need to know where the washing machine is – or the wash board. I mean, the Nuns used to use those so I'm, sure I can dig up the muscle memory…" Ellie began blabbering, her mind whirring from Odin's treatment of her.

Ingrid must've shot Cecelia a look to ignore what I was saying because the handmaiden became flustered and tried to cover it with a reassuring smile. "Come, you must feel overwhelmed," Cecelia coaxed.

Kindness radiated from the handmaiden. Ellie wanted to cry, she was seconds from bursting into tears. She was emotionally and physically exhausted. Usually she was able to keep her emotions controlled, but that had been impossible.

As Ellie watched Ingrid walk down the corridor and disappear around a corner, Cecelia began pushing the wheelchair. Ellie looked up at the girl with mild curiosity. They must be the same age and yet this girl was doomed to serve the royal household. Forever?

"Celicia?"

The handmaiden didn't slow. Her light blue robes fluttered behind her fast pace. "Yes?"

"What's the scariest monster you've ever seen?"

"The scariest monster? Well, that's a vast question," she said, her voice mirrored the distant thoughts in her mind.

"Monster was probably the wrong word. Nothing is truly monstrous. What's the scariest creature you've ever seen?"

"A _crowl_," she immediately said. She felt odd explaining this to her, because the fiends of the Nine Realms were the most well-known things in the universe. "It is a creature that lives in the marshlands beyond the capital. It is repulsive and oozing slime across its body. Almost like a fleshy balloon. The stench is abhorrent."

"Crowl. What does it do?"

"What do you mean?"

"It can't just be terrifying creature for no reason. Does it have a purpose?" Ellie asked expectantly. Cecelia shot her a disturbed look. "Of course not," she said. "Monsters have no purpose other than being hunted by the Warriors Three."

They reached a tall door, adorned with white swirls and patterns which illuminated the framework.

"Your chambers, my Lady," Cecelia bowed and opened the door. "I will enter morning and midday to perform my duties unless instructed otherwise. I shall return with supper."

Cecelia pushed Ellie into the centre of the room. She offered to carry Ellie to bed, but the human waved her off in embarrassment. Cecelia left the room as quickly as she had entered, closing the door with a small thud.

Alone in her quarters, Ellie took the time to observe every inch of them. It was a circular room, far smaller than the medical sanctuary. The four-poster bed was larger than the one she had in her dingy London apartment, double at least. With hooked up red curtains on each beam and a hanging canopy, it was quite Tudor.

Ellie hobbled out of the chair and leaned against one of the dark-wood columns. Four-poster beds had been created to help protect sleepers from the draught in their rooms. They were also used to give privacy as servants would sleep nearby; on-call for their employers.

Perhaps they hadn't been created in the 16th Century but inspired by Norse God customs. The bedsheets were silkier than any material on Earth. Ellie itched to climb beneath them and sleep forever.

Her stomach rumbled.

A large trunk was situated at the end of her bed, made of the same wood. It was heavy as she pulled it open. Inside were folded linens. For a stranger, these Asgardians could really issue the royal treatment.

The most Ellie could give to a guest was a Pot Noodle and Tesco Value teabags.

A rich red rug embroidered with artwork lay atop stone flooring. Ellie crouched, running a hand over the body of a black horse. The entire image looked like a battle, with demons being overpowered by… Odin.

The King was truly seen as a saviour. It was much like the glass artwork in cathedrals, only woven into fabric and adorned with a seamstress's devotion to her King.

_Is it possible there is more than one God_, _Heavenly Father_? _Or is Odin one of your children, just like me_?

Ellie looked up at the open window. The frame was curved, fitting the shape of the room well. She peered out. The Kingdom was a sea of gold, interlocked buildings which spread into the horizon. There were pillars of smoke, rising from fireplaces and a bustling noise.

London commotion was toxic and loud. This was gentle; soft against Ellie's ears. Instead of petrol, she smelt fresh bread and rose. Beneath her room was a quant balcony, covered in grass and flowers. Nothing had ever seemed so lovely and fitted in so well against a living city.

Ellie discovered a doorway on the far side of the room, leading to a bathroom. The bath was lone-standing in the middle. It was made of a fossilised wood, the brown hues merged like paint to water. Ellie looked to the ceiling and in the corner, there was a vent which she assumed was a shower of extravagant sort.

"When I go home, I'm taking you with me," she said to the bath, sliding her hand over the smooth side. "You are an _actual _wet dream."

The sound of footsteps caused Ellie to pull her hand away from the bath. Quickly she returned to the bedroom and watched Cecelia placing a tray on the table near the window. She stood up straight and placed her hands together with a smile.

"Supper, my lady," she said.

Ellie slowly walked up to the tray, sighing in relief as she slumped in her seat. "Thank you." She looked up at the girl awkwardly. "Do you want to sit down?"

Cecelia looked confronted, she looked down quickly. "Begging you're pardon, my lady, but servants are not supposed to sit with guests when they dine."

Feeling dreadful, Ellie swallowed. "Having a servant really isn't normal for me. Please, sit. I won't tell anyone."

"My lady, I must-"

"Please, Cecelia," Ellie insisted, leaning forwards. Her face was twisted, full of need to have an inch of Midgardian normality. Cecelia glanced at the closed chamber door and took a seat. She hesitated, choosing to keep her straight posture.

Ellie picked the bowl of soup, steaming and smelling of vegetables. At the orphanage, they were taught to drink and not use cutlery. When Ellie went to university, she was looked at oddly for not using a spoon. At least here, she could draw upon her childhood.

"This is so good," she said after warmth slipped down her throat. The taste was different, similar to carrot and potato with a hint of foreign spice.

Cecelia said nothing, watching the human with growing confusion. Ellie drank again before placing the bowl down.

"Do you want some?" she asked, holding out a piece of crusty bread. Cecelia bit her lower lip, glancing at it. "I'll end up asking you five more times like I did with taking a seat if you say no again."

"What if I'm not hungry?" she blurted and suddenly turned pink. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak out of term. Forgive me."

Ellie burst out laughing, nearly choking on her food. She held a hand to her mouth, continuing to snort. Cecelia was wide eyed for a moment and then began smiling.

"What is so funny, my Lady?" she asked.

"Your face. Bloody hell, you looked so scared. Did you think I was going to lunge at you or something?"

"I've been scolded before for my erratic tongue."

Ellie stopped laughing, it fell into a confused half-smile. "Erratic tongue? Scolding? That's hardly erratic and you've been… punished for it?"

Cecelia nodded. Her face was unemotional, guarded. Ellie realised the girl was afraid of her superiors discovering any flaw in her behaviour.

"What punishment?" Ellie asked, aching to know.

"Mrs Turid has a ladle made of Buloke wood. She uses it on our hands and feet because we are always walking or doing something." Ellie met Cecelia's cold gaze.

"So, it hurts the most and takes longer to heal," Ellie murmured. Despite the luxury of Asgard, there were many traits which borderline medieval Europe.

After a moment, Ellie pushed a piece of bread into Cecelia's hand. They shared a deep look, where Ellie tried to reach the handmaiden's inner core. "You don't need to be scared when you're with me. I won't tell Mrs Turid. We're friends, now."

"Friends? How?"

"We've had more than five minutes of conversation. As a loner who went to a Catholic school and then ran away to study Philosophy, most of my friends are built on five-minute introductions."

Cecelia blinked, her face less guarded. She raised the bread to her lips. "Friends, then," she said and took a bite.

"You can have some soup if you want."

"I don't like soup, my lady."

Ellie gasped, dunking her bread into it again. It dripped off, still warm and inviting. "Practically sacrilege."

"It reminds me of sick, my lady." Ellie shoved the soup-ridden food into her gob, shooting the handmaiden a disturbed look. "I used to help raise Lady Yngvild's babes. Sick was a large part of my day and I haven't been able to shake the connection, my lady."

Ellie snorted, holding the mental image at sanctuary. "When do you do that? You're only, what, twenty-five?"

"I am one-thousand-five-hundred-and-seventy-two; still fairly young." Cecelia didn't notice Ellie choke.

"Fairly young? What day-cream do you use? Are you Dracula's kid?"

"Who? How old are you? My knowledge of Midgard is shrouded, my lady."

The question took Ellie by surprise, she quickly answered, "Twenty-four."

"You are a newborn! How do you not look like you should be on your mother's breast?" Spluttering, Ellie had to put her bread down.

Were these Gods immortal? If Cecelia was over a thousand years old, then Ellie was craving to know what Odin was. As the King, however, her question would insult him.

"I'm an adult. Where I come from, we're fully grown and begin to wrinkle. I've got them already on my forehead when I'm stressed."

Cecelia ignored the light-hearted sentence. She frowned deeply. "I was unaware that human beings were so fleeting. You do not live for long at all, my lady."

"Some people think we live too long," Ellie joked. "Are you immortal? Like Elves?"

"Elves are not immortal," Cecelia guffawed. "No one is. It's impossible!" Ellie scoffed, continuing to eat her food as the handmaiden spoke. "Our lives are extensive, yes, but you Midgardians… How do you have time to do anything, my lady?"

"We make time. You can reach the other side of the planet in half a day."

Cecelia thought about this for a long time. It gave Ellie a sense of joy teaching someone about a concept which was mundane to her.

The handmaiden finally spoke, "do you wish you lived longer? Your life time is a fleeting moment to ours, if you'll pardon my bluntness, my lady."

Ellie chewed slightly slower. "Yes," she admitted, "there's so many stories to learn and I don't have enough time. I'd like to have my own, y'know? I mean believing in the Heavenly Father tells me that I was born with a purpose."

Cecelia frowned. "_Odin _is the Allfather, my lady."

"Not to me," Ellie said, overlooking Cecelia's shocked expression. To the handmaiden, it was close to opposing the crown. "Norse Gods are part of a dead religion on Earth. I mean, there are groups of people who pray to Odin and sing Norse songs, but not me. I'm a Catholic, uh, which is someone who believes there's one God. He has a son, Jesus, who was resurrected to give sinners salvation."

"Have you seen him? Does he walk on Midgard like Odin has?"

"No. There are stories sometimes; people who claim to have seen God or Jesus. But I haven't seen either of them. I feel trapped between philosophical truths and my religious ones."

Cecelia seemed taken aback. "How do you know he's real?"

"Sometimes I can sense him. His presence coats me, and I feel like I'm being wrapped in light." When Ellie was seven, she had been spanked by Sister Bethal for speaking during dinner. Unable to walk back to her dormitory, she fell to the floor and prayed to God for the will to stand. Something had come to her that night; something warm and beautiful held her tiny body tight and lifted her up. To her, it was God.

"It pains me to hear you speak of another deity which is not the Allfather," Cecelia said, her voice strained. "If he heard the things you spoke of; the ecclesiastic vestments; the false Gods, you would be hung."

Opposing beliefs wasn't a touchy subject for Ellie. She welcomed cultures and religions far different to her own; they were illuminating. "I suppose if I don't say anything about you sitting with me, then you won't say a word about me."

Rising from the chair, the handmaiden bowed. "Of course, my lady."

* * *

References  
_Crowl – _Inspired by Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer (2008), the Crowley Demon is the ugliest thing ever.

* * *

_Comments:_

_Burrowingreader – glad you enjoyed the first two chapters and find ellie so appealing to read, that's delightful to hear! x_

_whoatherebuddy – thank you for reading! will update soon!_

_deltareads – thank you for finding Ellie __humourous! thats good. I'm trying to make her reaction to such an inhumane and different world believable! _

* * *

please review! it helps me improve and your reading experiences get better!

x


	4. Vertigo

Worship of the Gods 

_People just blindly grabbed at whatever there was: communism, health foods, hypnotism, group encounters, orgies, herbs, Catholicism, withdrawal, vegetarianism, painting, conducting, yoga, copulating, gambling, drinking, Beethoven, Back, Buddha, carrot juice, suicide, and then it all evaporated and fell apart.People had to find things to do while waiting to die. I guess it was nice to have a choice._

Charles Bukowski, Women

* * *

Chapter Four: Vertigo

Ellie bolted upright, panic surging inside of her bones. She clawed at her bedsheets, throwing them off of her body.

"Get away from me!" she cried, tumbling out of the bed. She hit the floor with a painful thud and sat in the darkness with sweat dripping out of every pore. Her nightdress was soaking. Only sat in the silence, with breathing as her only companion, did she realise that it was a memory.

There were no wargs. She wasn't on London Bridge. Her legs weren't ripped off.

After lifting her nightdress, she looked at her bare legs and thighs. The marks were deep red. Painless, yet they ached with nightmarish agony. Ellie shot the door a shy glance, scared that someone had heard. Was she screaming aloud?

With no concoction to shut her entire brain now, Ellie was forced to dream again.

Her tear-filled gaze drifted upwards and to the tapestry above the door. It was one of Thor and Loki sitting at a table with Asgardians. There was a bountiful feast laid out and they were smiling with happiness. When she looked at Loki, she saw his pale skin and blue eyes. His raven-black hair and dark attire.

Ellie's mind flashed with monstrous memories – ripping, biting, screaming bodies. Her throat so sore that she felt it bleeding into her lungs. The screech of her car and the blinding lights. _Heavenly Father, take it all away_.

Pressing her hands together, she sobbed into them and couldn't muster words. She curled into a ball, gentle lying on her side against the sewn rug. Her ear pressed to it, she heard distant noises and rumbles. In the silence, the Kingdom was so alive.

Cecelia's words shouldn't have been so haunting. A crowl. Ellie's could scarcely imagine what the creature was like up close. With a fleshy body, the colour of rotten milk and dripping with slime. It crawled over Ellie, sliding over her skin and consuming her. The ooze went in her mouth, choking her.

"Stop it," she hissed, "stop… stop thinking."

In this world, wargs were not the only predator out to kill. There were millions of them, crawling over realms; in search of flesh. Protected by an ancient society, she was safe from them. Or was she? Ellie trembled. She was so weak and so easy to kill. If Loki hadn't saved her, she would be dead.

Ellie whimpered, tears sliding off her face. She wanted to go home; back to her pathetic apartment, with screaming neighbours and chippy-stinking Landlord. She had missed Doctor Montgomery's therapy session on Wednesday. What day was it? Frigga's incident had been on Monday.

Would she ever see Montgomery again? Or the Chippy Landlord? Would she ever stand between the neighbour's physical disputes again? Probably not. Even if she was in London, safety was impossible. Creatures could cross dimensions like stepping off a bus or train platform. And she was… so weak.

She wandered out the room, momentarily surprised that there were no guards. The corridor was exposed on the opposite side, pillars lining the stone wall. Ellie rested against it, pressing her bandaged leg to it so cold could seep into the healing wound. The cool air liberated the sweat.

Ellie walked along the corridor. Slowly. She craved freedom from the chamber, but also a painless existence. Her leg still ached.

She walked down a winding ramp which led onto a path. Beside her, were gardens molded onto rolling hills. They were laid out for miles it seemed. Ellie could smell the sweet perfume of flowers, hear the chirp of insects hidden in the bushes.

Continuing down, she walked enchanted by the moonlight. It cast a yellow light over Asgard and the stars shined so much brighter. Ellie craned her neck as she stared up at them. With all of the lights of the city, it didn't stop their shine.

A noise broke the peace, ripping through the air with a trampling metallic clatter. Ellie turned, her horizon was suddenly a dark, giant shadow. It rose against the orange sky, crying out.

Ellie yelped and cowered as the horse lost its footing. Its dark rider and stead slipped down the bank, tumbling past Ellie. There was vigorous swearing coming from the rider. He crawled from the ground as the horse gained its stability and continued down to the path below.

"Oh shit," Ellie gasped, approaching him. "Are you okay?"

"Curse that wretched Midgardian tongue," Loki Odinson hissed. His harsh voice was then followed by a groan of pain. Ellie went to him, bending down to reach his anguished state.

"You're hurt," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

"Don't touch me," he spat, and Ellie retracted her hands, still wavering in front of him.

"I'm trying to help you, your highness."

"You are Midgardian." Loki struggled to push half of his body weight up. Exhaustion swarmed his face, making his frown protrude. Ellie had seen pain in him before, and now it was her fault. Just like last time. "You should be fetching the guards or healers for me."

Ellie recalled Frigga's words. "You find my entire being-here humiliating," she dropped her voice to a gentle note. "I didn't think you'd want to be carried on a stretcher again, especially because of something I caused."

"Justifying your kindness; how mundane. Why would you help me of your own accord?" he slithered, his voice crawling over Ellie like ice cubes. His Asgardian senses picked up on her pounding heart.

"You saved me from the warg," she said quietly.

"And?"

"I just wanted to help. It doesn't matter than you're a prince. It's the nice thing to do."

In the pale moonlight, three different shadows were cast over Ellie's face. The muscles in her throat contracted as she swallowed her nervousness. In the silence of midnight, the only noise was the pairs breathing.

"Please?" Ellie asked again, raising a hand. "Why are you out here? Frigga said you haven't been able to leave for days."

"Perhaps we are as foolish as each other," he hissed. Ellie laughed gently, agreeing with him and accepting the half-insult. Loki glanced at her. "My horse - bring him to me."

Ellie nodded, shuffling down the hill and approaching the horse. It was more than double her size, with eight legs that kicked the ground. Ellie watched them nervously, finding the creature genetically closer to a gigantic spider.

The horse whinnied and Ellie took a worried step back, earning a sigh of frustration from Loki. "They know when you're afraid of them," he drawled.

"Well, it's making me nervous knowing that it knows that I'm nervous," she said back. There was another beat of hesitation and Loki exhaled dramatically. "It'll be better for the both of us if you bring me to him instead."

Turning around without a second thought, she went back to Loki and placed one of his arms around her shoulders. He groaned, tightening the muscles in his stomach. Ellie limped heavily, struggling to hold the Asgardian's full weight.

"It's laughable," Loki said, his voice strained. "that you fear a horse and yet, you didn't think twice about going near the wargs."

"Maybe it was the adrenaline," Ellie admitted.

"Wouldn't be the first time you had such an outburst."

Rolling her eyes, Ellie huffed. "I woke up on an alien planet. There was a fairy in front of my face. I was either dead or tripping."

"You were neither," was all Loki said. They hobbled beside the horse, both exerting more energy than they could afford. Ellie's eyes darted down to the 6 extra legs hanging beneath the creature and shivered.

"Your father believes I'm a traitor sent to kill you."

"Maybe you are," Loki admitted. "A terrible traitor, might I add. Unless you're disguising the monstrous form of a hag. Are you?"

"What does a hag look like?"

"They are deformed, overgrown women who eat the hearts of children. Balding, with hair sprouting from their ears and noses like rat tails." Loki shot Eurelia a look, almost amused by the fright which took over her face.

"That's quite a description," she said. "You paint me well."

"It's a gift," he drawled unpleasantly. "The stench of a hag is repulsive, or so I've heard."

Ellie scoffed, "definitely must be one. Thank you. Truly."

"The stench of a Midgardian, rest assured, isn't far off." Ellie let out a cry of disbelief, shooting the prince a look, trying to figure out if he was joking. He looked sincere, meeting her brown eyes in the darkness. Ellie coughed.

"So, uh, the stench of a human is as bad as a hag? I shower twice a day, you know. Or I did. Now it's more baths. My apartment wasn't big enough for one…"

"Midgardians stink of ignorance and mortality," Loki interrupted. He was angry again. "You can smell their decomposition. The ones who inhale rot into their lungs stink worse…." He made a noise of repulsion in the back of his throat.

"You can _smell _me decomposing?" Ellie asked, disgusted.

"Not entirely. It's a faint waft. It leaks off your skin like a fog."

"And all Asgardians think I stink?"

"No. It's complicated. I won't divulge – you wouldn't understand."

Ellie shot him a look. "You said that before – on that night – that I wouldn't understand. I'm not stupid. I might be able to wrap my tiny human brain around something." Loki tensed, clenching his fingers behind Ellie's back. There were several beats of silence.

Loki didn't answer, having already shed enough light on himself. They neared the horse and its front left leg tapped the ground anxiously. Loki shushed the creature, murmuring its name so quietly that even Ellie couldn't hear it.

"What did it mean?" she finally asked, wringing her hands together. "Me touching the stone did something, didn't it? I'm not an idiot. I need to know what's happening."

"And you think I'm the one to tell you?" he retorted sharply. It stung Ellie to be regarded as intellectually inferior of knowledge about herself.

"Yes, you have to tell me!"

"I have nothing to tell you, Midgardian." With a pained grunt, Loki lifted himself up and slid atop the horse naturally. Ellie took a step back. Loki's outline against the moonlight reminded Ellie of the Headless Horseman, but with the head. It was sinister and intriguing.

Loki shot the human one last look. He couldn't muster an inch of gratitude to his lips. Tightening his jaw, he shot Ellie a curt nod and pulled the reigns, taking off into a slow trot back towards wherever he had appeared from.

Ellie wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down the skin. She made her way back towards the stone steps, taking longer to return to bed now her energy was diminished and was left feeling emptier than before.

* * *

When Ellie awoke, her head felt like it was packed with cotton balls. Running on little sleep had its terrible perks, she supposed. Before she had time to finish the bread and butter Cecelia left her for breakfast, an irritatingly snippy seamstress appeared.

"Oomph. Do we really need it to be that tight?" Ellie hissed in pain as the seamstress tightened the string around her waist. The old woman was Asgard's finest. Not that Ellie could tell, it was an agonising and embarrassing moment.

"Discard your undergarments," the seamstress ordered. Ellie covered her front and lower region with her hands, eyes wide as she watched the elderly lady pull out another tape measure.

Bare, the cool air made her shiver. She gritted her teeth as the seamstress measured her legs, thighs and hips. Muttering: "terrible child-bearing bones", "less material here" and "hmph".

With the ordeal over, the seamstress gave Ellie garments to wear for the day before her clothes were made and ready. It was a sheer viridian green dress with see-through flute sleeves.

"Is there any chance I can have my bra back?" Ellie asked her as she looked over her reflection in the mirror. "I was wearing one before."

The seamstress appeared over her shoulder, shooting her an agitated glare. The white belt around Ellie's middle tightened. "The Queen has requested you wear Asgardian attire. As for your Midgardian clothing, they were discarded by the sanctuary."

"Oh," Ellie said breathlessly.

With the parting of the seamstress, Cecelia arrived and giggled at Ellie's uncomfortable inability to sit down.

"I feel like I've shit myself," she groaned, awkwardly perched on the ornate chair in front of the vanity.

"You don't look it, my lady." Cecelia parted Ellie's hair, her delicate fingers trying to be gentle with the knots.

"So, Odin wants me to meet a Völva…" Ellie chewed bottom lip. "Völvas tell people's fortune, don't they? We have spiritualist and clairvoyants, and they're not the same thing."

"He's not just a Völva." Cecelia pulled Ellie's curl harshly and tucked it into a larger braid. "He is _the _Völva. The Völva of Eternity."

"So it'll tell me my fortune? Sort of like a fairground attraction, I s'pose."

"They are seers. They can see the future, the past and present."

Mystical and dangerous. Ellie shivered, thinking about how true Cecelia's words were. Fortune tellers were a type of joke to Ellie; they told her things she already knew. She'd live her life by her spiritual guide. She wasn't ambitious. She is saving herself for marriage

Most of it was completely untrue. Ellie remembered the giggles her and her friends shared over the marital prophecy. "Are they Gods?" she asked, "or Goddesses?"

Cecelia met her eyes in the mirror. "Both," she said.

Ellie followed Cecelia towards the Oratio Hall, not needing assistance anymore. She held the smooth material of her dress, having tripped up the stairs twice.

"Bastard thing," she grumbled, clutching the railing of the stairwell.

Cecelia spared her a glance. "Come, the Seer is waiting." Ellie attempted to speed up her unangelic walking.

"Surely, he'll see me coming, then. Won't he?" Ellie replied saracastically. "Might even tell the King that the _attire _of Asgard isn't exactly the dog's bollocks."

That one startled Cecelia into shutting her lips and getting the human to the hall as quick as possible. They arrive at the door and Cecelia bowed, insisting she didn't need to be reminded of the Völva's appearance.

Confused, Ellie entered with her eyebrows furrowed. A gasp left her lips, eyes landing on the Seer sat in the corner of the room. He was hunched in a mound of black capes, draped over his body and the floor.

He had no eyes. They were sunken pits of skin, marked with black charcoal and his charcoaled lips were sinister against his grey skin. As the door creaked, the Seer tilted his head in her direction.

The black-lined lips crept into a smile, flashing yellow teeth.

"Welcome Ellie," Frigga said softly. Her voice didn't stop the shivers running down Ellie's spine. Odin approached the human.

"Indeed, welcome, Ellie Adams," he said. "As requested by his holiness Freyr and by the guidance of the councillors of the Nine Realms we hereby introduce you to his graced Völva, a servant of the stars and divulger of the universe."

"Right," she said, her voice hoarse. "Right. O-Of course. Hi, uh, there."

"Come forward, Eurelia," the Völva barked, making Ellie jump. "I've been waiting. You're the talk of the universe." She very much doubted this.

Approaching the Völva, she was overthrown by the stenches of herbs and spices he emitted. There were beads of dried fruit and vegetables draped over his black shawls, shells hung on a necklace and a crown of thorny crystals atop his head. Ellie took the seat opposite him and held her breath.

"The Allfather asked about your soul," he said, his voice like a broken violin. "I wish to know what you ask of yourself."

"M-Me? Uh," she murmured. "What am I doing here?"

"The Gods cursed you as a child. You were a vessel, passing through one place to the other, heaved and towed like cargo until you felt the contents of your being slipping through the cracks," he croaked, tilting his head up as if to look at the sky. Ellie narrowed her eyes, unnerved by the cryptic speech.

"_Why _am I here?"

"Traitorous blood; you possess not." Odin appeared to shift at this, he tilted his head at the Völva. "However… there is a possession of the soul. You are bound to the Àlkar, you are bound to the snake, and you are bound to the war of the universe."

"What do you mean? The war of… what? I'm nobody. How many times do I have to tell you all? I'm nothing."

"Then why do you crave a purpose?" Ellie's blood ran cold at the Völva's words. He rolled his head side to side, stretching the muscles. "This is your purpose, Eurelia. Return the Àlkar and bring life to the Light which rots in the darkness."

"What if I want to go home?"

"Home is not the orphanage – the leaking walls, the cupboard of nails, the whipping stick, or prayers." Ellie's hand went to her mouth. "Home is not the apartment on the edge of Finsbury Park – the screaming neighbours and dead rats, the festering milk cartons and stale bread. Home is blood, flesh and bone."

"How do you, how do you know about that? Who are you?" she demanded, flaring with anger. "Who, the hell, are you?"

"Our time is over, Eurelia-"

"Adams," she hissed, "my name is Ellie Adams."

"Is it?" The Völva began to laugh, cackling loudly. It took Ellie's breath away, she leaned back with her heart racing. Spits flew from his open mouth, exposing black teeth and missing canines. His tongue was white and painted with mould. She looked to Frigga for help. She simply stared at the Völva, full of understanding and calm patience.

"The offering, Ellie," Frigga said gracefully. "Give him the offering."

Ellie, still disturbed and at a loss, leaned forwards and licked the Völva's hand. He tasted of salt and rose petals. Continuing to laugh, the noise only became louder as he hobbled from the room. His dried food chains rattled against the floor like metal. Ellie listened to the noise become fainter and fainter, until it was gone entirely, and the door was shut.

Odin dragged his fingers along his beard. "Well, now that one issue is clearing. I have another. Ellie, you spoke to your handmaiden about this false God." Her hand tightened around the Rosary, eyes snapping to the King. "You frightened her with your words."

"Are you taking the piss?" she suddenly spat. "That creep just opened me like a book and told me that I'm not allowed to go back home? Shit, you're all insane."

"Ellie," Frigga warned. "It's difficult but do not talk to the King in such a manner."

"Talk to…" Ellie said, borderline hysterical. "Talk to the King like that? How is _any_of this normal for you people? Return the Àlkar? I'm not some next level doomsday warrior and I certainly haven't got a clue how to help you with any of this!"

"You will listen, Eurelia," Odin warned, his voice dangerous. Ellie shot him a look.

"You know what? I didn't mean to scare Cecelia. Surely, you know what human beings believe? They don't believe in eyeless creeps, or prophecies and they certainly don't believe in you anymore!"

Odin's head whipped up, exposing his rage filled eyes. "Do _not _question my knowledge," he retorted. "I have watched over Midgard for thousands of years. I know the nature of Midgardians far more than the likes of a failed philosopher." Ellie leaned back as if she'd been scalded with hot water.

She retorted venomously, "I know more than you think. You can't… _belittle _me into following you or doing what you want me to do."

"You are consumed, Ellie Adams. Remove yourself from the Midgardian body you are imprisoned inside. I crave not your devotion, nor to replace the petty bracelet you rely upon-"

"Rosary," Ellie growled, unable to control herself.

Odin stopped talking. He lifted his chin, staring down at Ellie over his nose. The grimace on his lips made Ellie feel like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. "You are a child," Odin finally said, his voice raised. "You know nothing of the universe. Your claims have insulted my people and their beliefs."

Ellie held her breath, unable to pull her eyes away from the King. She wanted to look at her feet in shame, but the power of the Allfather consumed her.

"Spirituality, courage and unity is what harmonise the beings of Yggdrasil. The cultures do not divide us," Odin continued. His rage only grew towards the human as he expelled her stupidity. The half-dozen court members watched Ellie with unemotional distrust.

Odin told her about the gossip spreading through the Kingdom; entirely about her. Cecelia had fled to the library and taken a book about Midgard. From this, she had taken Ellie's pride with a pinch of salt and told a guard about it all. The guard went on to tell his Captain and so forth.

Ellie should've known to keep her Heavenly Father inside of her head.

With Odin scolding her, even her thoughts felt unsafe. Ellie wondered if he could read her emotions like a book. Did they ripple through the air in sonic waves? Were her eyes the door to her soul?

"Knowledge is not subjective. It is objective. There are lies and there is truth; and there is the soul. None of these intertwine." Odin stood up from his throne, taking a step down the grand stairway. His dark blue cape slid off the seat, shifting over the smooth floor with a swish. Ellie wanted to take a step back, but her judgement told her to stand her ground.

Odin was the predator, lithe and hungry. Ellie, the prey, had to freeze in the long-grass and wait for the danger to leave _her_.

"You're not entirely to blame. This world is new to you and the customs are alien. Our speech, our mannerisms are thousands of years apart. So, I cannot blame you entirely for the situations that continue to arise and disturb my Kingdom," his voice, soft and stern, reminded Ellie of the father-figure she never had. It was either entirely wrong, or right at the Orphanage. "Head my warning, Eurelia Adams. Do not disturb the peace in my people."

Ellie lowered her head, her muscles tense and painful. Finally, she understood how pretentious she was. "I'm sorry," she said heavily. "I'm sorry, your Highness. I meant no disrespect to you; or Cecelia; or your people but I feel…"

Frigga took several slow steps towards Ellie, her eyebrows knotted together. "Lost," she finished for the human. "My love, may I speak to Ellie alone? I think we all need to clear our heads."

Ellie was led by Frigga outside. If they were followed by royal guards, Ellie couldn't see them.

In a daze, Ellie felt Frigga's arm looping into hers. It was maternal.

"I'm sorry for shouting at Odin," she said regretfully.

"It's in the past, Ellie. We can't change the past, we only learn from it. Don't let it dwell or you'll feel worse."

"I just want to understand why all of this is happening."

"As do we all. We just cope with the few signs we are given. We have to build a path, no matter how few bricks we are given."

Ellie squeezed her eyes together as tears sprang to them. It had been too long since someone _motherly _had emitted kindness and wisdom. "I can't Frigga."

"I'm going to help you. I am partly to blame for this whole ordeal, perhaps fully. If it weren't for my clumsiness, I wouldn't have landed on Midgard."

"Yes," Ellie sniffled, "but you might be dead."

Frigga shrugged half-heartedly. "Perhaps. All the past now. Why don't we start with the first step?" Ellie looked up at her expectantly, her brown eyes swimming with tears. "Language."

* * *

References:

– Rosary - biblical form of prayer in Catholicism. It is a devotion of honour to the Virgin Mary.

– Loki falling from his horse - Jane Eyre. In Charlotte Brontë's novel _Jane Eyre, _the protagonist first meets Mr Rochester when he falls off his horse. I feel its quite fitting in foreshadowing Ellie and Loki's relationship.

– The Völva - nordic soothsayer. The description of him as well as the offering is from the tv show _Vikings. _I like the intimacy of the gesture; its unsettling and uncanny.

* * *

Comments:

Guest - hello! thank you for reading! I'm so glad you like this story so far and find Ellie pleasant to follow. Thank you x

* * *

please review / comment your thoughts – they make my writing improve and your experiences better! x


	5. Lessons Unlearnt

Worship of the Gods 

_If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we made for another world._

C.S. Lewis

* * *

Chapter Five: Lessons Unlearnt

Tamra turned out to be what she appeared, a placid, calming woman with extensive knowledge of the universe's languages. Well-slept, her wrinkled skin reminded Ellie of Reverend Mother at the orphanage.

The purple gown Tamra wore dragged across the rug as she approached the sheer, futuristic demonstration board. It was similar to a blackboard, only Tamra could use her finger to write in white ink. Ellie sat with her back to the window, appreciating the warm sun licking her back as she scribbled the alphabet.

"The all-language is a gift Asgardians share. Our words naturally shift into the native tongue of whoever we are speaking to." Ellie's eyes immediately went to Tamra's mouth. She watched the movements, searching for the odd movements you see when watched a dubbed film. Tamra spoke English and Ellie wanted to learn how.

"Over time," Tamra continued, "we will expand your spiritual presence so you will also be able to harness the all-language. For now, Old-Norse which is a Midgardian mixture of Germanic, Icelandic and so forth. It was taught to Midgardians in the country of Scandinavia."

Ellie was practising hand-written Old-Norse, a difficult and artistic language which required hard concentration. "My hand hurts," Ellie groaned, she moved her hand and knocking the ink pot over. It spilled onto the table, dripping onto the floor. "Oh, shit."

Tamra began dabbing the table with her handkerchief, mopping it up before starting on the floor. It had, thankfully, spilled onto wood and not an extravagant rug. Ellie began patting the table with her sleeve, wiping up as much from her sheets as possible.

The Norse alphabet, or her attempt at it, was ruined.

"Ellie!" Tamra scolded, pulling the human's hand away from the table. "Your dress!"

"Oh, uh," Ellie stammered, used to the behaviour going unnoticed. "_Gordon Bennet_!" she spat. Her lilac sleeve was stained black, the splodge spreading through the soft material. "I've done this before – if we get a bottle of glycerine and bleach, we can clean this bad-boy out in no time."

"Your language is so colourful," Tamra said half-heartedly. "We'll have to leave it to the maidens to sort. After our session, I shall call Cecelia to help you change." Ellie was about to say she didn't need help, but she decided to save it for Cecelia. The poor handmaiden had to deal with enough.

"What? But I thought that it was Dé?" Ellie asked, frustrated. "Is it not the same as D?"

Tamra shook her head and sighed. "Maybe we should continue tomorrow. We've already done two hours together."

"No. I want to learn it today," Ellie pleaded. She straightened in the chair, holding the quill tighter. Tamra met the expectant eyes of the human and gave in.

"It's especially hard to learn a new language when you're an adult. When you are a youngling, it's as simple as looking someone in the eye."

Tamra was gentle. She was coaxing and informative, treating Ellie with the patience of one of her infant pupils.

"You taught many people?" Ellie asked, her hand stilling over the parchment.

"Yes. I was the tutor for the young princes."

Ellie's eyes widened. Royal treatment. "Loki and Thor. What were they like?"

Tamra chuckled, fond of the memories. "I taught them together. A terrible mistake but the King insisted; they're brothers after all. They were undeniably excelled and learnt fast, but the pair were devilishly difficult to keep entertained." Ellie imagined so. "When Thor wasn't distracting Loki, Loki was distracting Thor."

With a grin, Ellie leaned forwards. "How?"

"Oh, one day especially, Thor had been presented his arm ring – a tradition for Asgardians when they pass the Trial of Youth – he came in and used it as a boomerang, frightening Loki." Ellie began to laugh with Tamra. "Well, Loki has always been a minx. He transformed the arm ring into a snake, throwing it back to Thor. He screamed so high, the palace dogs came running to his rescue."

Listening to such light-hearted tales was as fresh as spring water on Ellie's ear. She sat, resting her head in her hand, watching Tamra animatedly retelling the princes' childhoods. The dark hole created by the Völva was filling in with innocent splendour.

In between the laughter, Ellie became better at remembering the difference between the letters in the Norse Alphabet. She struggled with Dé and D still, but learning was a slow affair. Painful and slow. The Nuns were painful and slow teachers too.

As Ellie left Tamra's company, she rubbed the ink marks on the palm of her hand. The black stain spread into the crevices of her skin, stretching out like branches. A bath was definitely in order.

The path to and from the study was the only one she was sure of. Not one for exploration, Ellie stuck to it until she understood her place in Asgard better.

With no other council meetings, no word from Odin. Frigga was the only person to visit Ellie. They kept their conversations short, much to Ellie's regret. However, the life of a Queen was hectic and busy. The fact Frigga spared even a moment for Ellie was assuring that she was doing something right.

Maybe it was just maternal pity.

Ellie headed for her chambers, holding her books to her chest tightly. She felt the eyes of the royal guests on her as she passed. Clearly the Völva's visit sparked gossip to run on a continuous loop through Asgard.

None of the Asgardians had asked her to her face just yet, which was surprising. If they did, Ellie would blurt out a string of incoherent babble which was manifested from her confusion.

In an exhausted huff, Ellie leaned against her chamber door and slid inside. She scratched at the tied dress around her midriff and pulled the strings. It came undone, the outer dark blue shell of her outfit falling away and to the ground.

Ellie splashed cold water on her face and went to the bed. She discarded the underdress and curled up beneath the silk covers. When she went to bed in her London apartment, she could forget that the world around her existed for a while.

* * *

In the darkness, Ellie stretched her fingers over the bare pillow beside her. The smooth material swished in a satisfying lick of comfort.

She let her body rest for a moment, inhaling the lavender around her. It was warm and delicious. With a yawn, she sat up and found her room to be alien. It was large and golden, not dingy and damp.

Ellie remembered. She left the bed and slipped her loose nightdress over herself. In such obscure space, she began to choke. Hot sweat prickled the back of her neck and she chewed her bottom lip, heading for the door.

Wrenching it open, the cool night air hit her body. Nausea slid up her throat. Taking the stairway to the gardens two at a time, Ellie hurried into the open night and headed towards a shrubbery archway.

Inside was a small garden, with a white bench in the middle of waves of flowers. A gentle humming buzzed around her ears. The soft noise settled the ill feeling inside of her and she anxiously walked closer to the flowers.

Ellie brushed her hands over the tall marigolds and primulas. They were silver, glistening like icicles beneath the moonlight. The smooth texture of the petals cooled Ellie's clammy fingers. An insect crawled out, startling her. In a panic, she flung it away and squealed.

She clenched her fists together and shook her head, feeling childishly pathetic. In a huff, she threw herself onto the bench she could see from her floor. It was cool beneath her nightdress, making her shiver.

Wrapping her arms over her chest, she leaned forwards and felt fresh tears springing to her eyes. "Why am I here, God?" she asked aloud. "Why have you left me on this planet?" The Seer's cruel voice echoed in her mind; nowhere was home. She was a drifting vessel of nothing. Odin believed she was a pathetic human. "I am alone here, Heavenly Father," she whispered.

A half-hearted sob hiccupped from Ellie's throat. She pushed a hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes together.

"Do take delight weeping in the royal gardens?" an ice-cold voice said behind her. Ellie jumped at the sound, turning and meeting the son of the King. Loki Odinson stood, beside the opening to a path, with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. "Don't stop on my account."

"Don't think I could if I tried," she said, her voice wobbling. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave her alone, but closed it. Aware that Loki didn't care for her feelings at all and she was on his property. Still, she didn't move, feeling frozen by her stupidity. After being moved from place to place, she should've dealt better with moving to another planet. She wiped her undereye quickly.

"I don't fault you for weeping," Loki said, watching her from the shadows. "Call it curiosity that I wonder why you have struggled all the way from your bed just to sit here."

"I can see the flowers from the balcony," she lied quietly. "They looked like stars and I wanted to know if they… looked as pretty up close. Also, if you were riding over the hills, I didn't want to get in the way."

"Midnight rides aren't an activity I do often. The next time I assured my stead that he could continue trampling as he pleased."

"You're a real gentleman," Ellie remarked. "Midnight walks aren't something I do on the regular either." Ellie didn't sleep enough to make to the morning peacefully it seemed.

"Tell me, Midgardian, what did the Völva prophesise you?"

"Ellie," she said abruptly. "My name is Ellie."

"I'm aware," he said non-clamantly.

"Then why don't you use it?" She shot him a poignant look and rolled her eyes. Truth be told, Loki enjoyed using her species because it presented the rank of her birth. However, the human's self-righteousness would prevent Loki from finding out what he wanted to know.

"Eurelia," he tested, the word sliding off his tongue with regal intent. The human turned her head, agitated but pleased nonetheless. "What did the Völva say to you, Eurelia?"

"How did you do it?" she interrupted. Loki stared openly at her. "That night, you did something with your hands. You crushed that creature with… green light. What was that?"

"It was magic."

"Magic?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she whispered. Loki folded his arms, watching her with calculated curiosity. Blunt truth was sometimes the greatest pain to inflict and it gave Loki a pang of joy watching the human mentally battle herself. "There was a magician once," she said distantly, "not in the orphanage; magic was the Devil's work. At the Museum, Roberts hired a magician to perform tricks next to the travelling circus exhibit.

He pulled a rabbit out of a hand and petted its soft head. You _crushed _the warg. You crushed it like you were cracking an egg."

"Yes." Ellie's eyes snapped to his response. It nearly overwhelmed her when she found Loki's gaze to be attentive and focused.

"What else can you do?" she asked.

The shadow on his face depeened, as if the moon was hiding Loki's sins. "How far does your imagination expand, Eurelia?"

She shivered under his watch, not wanting to answer out of fear. Loki laughed quietly. "What's so funny?" Ellie asked.

"You crave answers which you fear, don't you?"

"I'm only human," she suddenly snapped.

"I've noticed." There was no answer from Ellie. Her face was stoney, staring ahead of her with unkind annoyance. "Well," Loki said pitifully. "If you shan't answer my question, I won't relinquish any of yours." He turned on his heel, beginning the walk back to the royal chambers.

Ellie called for him to wait and he stilled. "The Völva told me I had to return the jewel back to the place it was stolen from," said hurriedly, the words tumbling out like hot coals. "I have to… return light to the darkness."

With his back to her, he moved his head only slightly. The curve of his jaw and nose were all Ellie could see. "What did my father say of all this?"

Ellie swallowed. "He hates me," she said. "He said it was one _issue _cleared up."

"Disturbed by how I acknowledge you," he said, his voice distantly humorous. "Now you know who I have inherited it from. In all honesty, I doubt it is hatred. If it were you be dead." Loki took a step forwards, about to leave. Ellie stood up abruptly, feeling more confused.

"You didn't let me die." He stopped still. "You didn't let me die on that bridge and you hate me. Please, Loki. No one else is talking to me about this." She watched him turn around, his eyes drifting to her in the moonlight. "What is it about me? Why me?"

"Ask your own God," he said.

"I have."

Loki seemed taken aback by this. Clearly believing for a moment that Ellie was in face-to-face contact with her saviour. "And what did he say to you? Did you not listen to the words of your God?"

"He said..." Ellie's voice dropped to a whisper.

Loki fought his smirk. "Nothing. He said nothing to you, didn't he?"

Uncomfortable and alienated, the human squirmed under his watch. "It's hard to explain," she said.

"Try. I know the ways of the Gods."

It pricked a nerve, hearing Loki claim to have an inch of knowledge about her God. "How would you know what a God would say?"

"Because I am one," he slid back icily. Loki frowned at her momentarily, studying the registering shock on her face. It delighted him. After several heartbeats, he turned away and left the royal gardens. This time, Ellie couldn't bring herself to beg for his continued company.

He returned to his chamber in confused repulsion. The honour bestowed upon him for over a thousand years had been stripped away by her on Midgard. He had never felt so useless and discarded in front of a being who was meant to worship his people. Eurelia was a trial for Asgard and the Nine Realms, it was his duty to assist his father is making her task possible.

The Midgardian was skittish and overbearing. Hot and cold with her emotions like a petrified child who also wanted to taste death. Had the people not informed her of his status? Of the Gods which existed beside her?

Cursing aloud, Loki's finger slipped into his tunic, skimming the scarred skin and remembering the wargs. They didn't petrify him as they did with Eurelia, it was simply another wound to add to the memories which built his character. His skin, pumping with royal blood and otherworldly healing was puckered pink. Still, the dark magic of the wargs flowed through him and tired him out immensely still.

Eurelia could use the Àlkar which shouldn't be possible as she was a Midgardian. Unless she wasn't human at all, and a lost child of Alfheim. A lost royal of Alfheim. She stank of Midgardian mortality – full of selfishness and ignorance, curses and London dialect. That alone confused Loki beyond all he knew. She was mortal, and a child of a poor Midgardian being.

Yet, if Eurelia was the creature Aelfred and Freyr longed for, then Loki teaching her to harness the Àlkar would mean Odin would see his son in a light brighter than Thor's.

Loki's hearing picked up on a sound beneath his chambers. He slowly made his way onto the balcony, leaning against the stone wall for support. Below, were the windows to the guest rooms. One of them was open and out of it, harsh sobbing echoed.

He recognised the glottal stops in the words, the tone and accent were Midgardian.

"Heavenly Father," Eurelia wracked. "Why have you left me here? Why have you cast me out?"

Loki watched the window, his brows knitted together. His bare chest felt the cool night air, prickling the scarred tissue and new skin like kisses. The Midgardian's emotional turmoil was distressing to listen to, least of all experience. Himself and Frigga were empaths, able to sense the emotions of others in a way many couldn't.

Loki swallowed and returned back to his chambers. He closed the door, shutting out the waves of bitter sadness. It was a relief and he exhaled, forcing Eurelia's unrest out of his system.

* * *

References:

– Gordon Bennet - British slang for 'bloody hell' or 'oh my god'. Quite fitting for Ellie's character.

**please review / comment your thoughts – they make my writing improve and your experiences better! x**


	6. Fighting the Freefall

Worship of the Gods 

_"Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"_

Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

* * *

Chapter Six: Fighting the Freefall

Tamra decided that fresh air was good for the soul. They wandered onto a balcony which overlooked a sparse, grassy training area. Ellie was intrigued immediately as she leaned over the stone wall, watching warriors fighting one another. She recognised the blond, beastly man immediately.

Thor Odinson was hot-headed. As the son of the Allfather, the strength and nobility assigned to him at birth clearly influenced the righteousness he displayed. Young, dashing looks were inherited from Odin; the childish smirk was not. Still, the entire court worshipped him. Ellie found it hard to pull her eyes away from the prince's swift movements.

Opposite Thor, a foot shorter, was a man with dirty-blond hair and goatee. He danced around the prince with agility and lithe like spring water droplets would off a leaf.

"Stop hopping around me, Fandral!" Thor boomed, swinging his spear.

"Hopping is positively the only way to win against you," _Fandral_cried with delight. Ellie was amazed how fluid and well-trained they all were. Fandral dove beneath Thor's spear, rolling over the floor and springing to his feet. "Ah-ha!"

Thor turned and swung the spear, catching Fandral's ankles. The force knocked him onto his back and he let out an _oomph_. As Thor neared him, Fandral reached out and grabbed near the tip of Thor's spear. Thor tripped forwards, having to dive over Fandral so he wouldn't squash him.

"Heavy footed today, Thor?" Fandral leapt to his feet, springing like a bunny from its nest. Ellie watched Fandral's footwork in awe. He was precise and agile, stepping in perfect order with his body and sword. With a grin, the warrior moved towards Thor and the two clashed swords.

The noise rang out. Over and over their blades clanged together, with cries from Thor or Fandral every so often.

"You are intrigued by their training?" Tamra's voice took Ellie's attention. The human looked up at her language teacher and nodded, scratching the corset of her dress.

"We don't have things like this at home. Our wars are fought by soldiers who train in camps. Far away."

"Have you met these Midgardian soldiers? Are they as…" She looked at Thor releasing a great war-cry and slamming his shield against Fandral's chest. The slimmer man was knocked backwards. "Enthusiastic as the mighty son of Odin?"

Ellie's gaze fell, her mind plagued by memories. "When I was a little girl, there was a war: The Vietnam War, not many British soldiers were involved, but one day they passed through the city and the Reverend Mother made us go and give them flowers." Ellie recalled with sensitive calmness. They had been boys, only ten years older than herself at the time. She her infant mind thought they were exciting. "Not many of them came back."

"Midgard has had many wars with itself," Tamra said, 'it's terrible that Midgardians flitter with their lives against one another. I've never understood it."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Being thousands of years old, I suppose you've seen quite a few fights on Earth?"

Nodding, Tamra met Ellie's look. "Many. I've read about all of them; from physical disputes to great wars that cross oceans. You never learn."

"No," Ellie murmured, turned away. "I suppose not." She itched her corset again, struggling to loosen it an inch.

The lithe Fandral stumbled backwards, clutching his stomach as he controlled his breathing.

"Come now, you can't be tired out already?" Thor grinned devilishly, taking a step towards his opponent.

"We've been at this all morning, Thor. You can hardly blame me."

"Wait until we are on the battle field!" Thor leaped forwards, striking Fandral's shield with a bang. "With a thousand beasts at our feet!" Fandral shoved the weapon away, standing straight once more. Sweat beaded his brow.

Ellie's eyes snapped to the figure behind Thor. Loki manifested out of nothing, a spear in his hand and the same loose linen combative clothing as his brother and Fandral. The cream flute sleeves and shirt exposed healing red marks.

"What's he doing?" she asked Tamra in disbelief. "He hasn't healed."

The elder wasn't fazed by the human's reaction. It was normal for Asgardian warriors to continue their daily routine despite battle. "Embarrassing his brother is his forte," was all Tamra shrugged.

Fandral began to laugh loudly. He lowered his shield and weapon and dropped them to the ground with a soft clatter. Thor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Why not fight _one _beast for today, brother?" Loki asked arrogantly. Thor's face shifted momentarily and then he was turning around, swinging his spear with great power and might. Then, Loki was gone.

He appeared behind Thor again, closer to the human onlooker and her tutor.

Ellie leaned forward, her hands resting on the rough stone.

"Your aim is off," Loki said. Thor turned again and Loki was gone. As if knowing his brother's tricks, Thor kept turning until he had completed the 360 degree and was face-to-face with the amused face of his black-haired sibling.

Thor huffed in annoyance, his cheeks flushing red. He ran a hand through his loose hair, pushing back the blond strands. "None of your magic today, Loki," he insisted. The brother could only grin malevolently, neither agreeing nor disagreeing to the order. "Loki, come on now."

Fandral snickered. "Telling him what to do will only give him ideas." Beside him, the gathered onlookers began to clap and cheer on each of the brothers. They were mundane soldiers, not standing out as much as Loki and Thor, but their enthusiasm and gleaming grins showed their royal adoration for the men.

"Give us a show, Silvertongue!" one of the soldiers demanded. Another began to beat his wooden sword against his shield. "Mighty sons of Odin!"

"I can beat you in this form or another, brother," Thor tested, twirling his spear. Loki's back was to Tamra and Ellie, it was bent in a stance. Suddenly, Loki laughed. It was a loud, joyous ring upon Ellie's ear; far removed to the icy distaste he showed for her. Leaning over the balcony, Ellie felt excitement rippling up her arms.

"What does he mean by form?" she asked. "Fighting form?"

Tamra pulled her eyes away from Ellie's face. She was now watching something with a smirk, a proud grin. Ellie looked back at the men and stepped back from the edge, her blood cold. The air shifted. Onlookers cried loudly, clapping and stomping their feet as the raven-haired wolf reared its neck and snapped its jaw with a sharp growl.

It was smaller than Thor, jet-black and sleek against the grass. Thick, padded paws pummelled the ground close to a discarded spear and shield. It was the son of Odin, in unprecedented glory.

"That's Loki?" Ellie choked, barely able to speak over the cheering. Tamra clapped and laughed.

The wolf, Loki, ran at his opponent. Thor crouched and barrelled himself at Loki's legs, flipping him over his back. Loki landed on his feet, ripping up grass, and started for Thor. He jumped and knocked Thor onto his front with a grunt.

The spear flew from Thor's hand.

"Yield!" Loki's demanded, his voice guttural and a distant version of his human self. It was odd, seeing words come from a wolf. Ellie couldn't stop the flashback of the warg.

Thor's face was mushed against the ground, his limbs splayed out. Despite his size, Loki appeared bigger now. He demanded his brother's surrender once more. "In your dreams, you slick sod," Thor groaned, the weight of Loki hurting him. "This is cheating."

"Cheating?" Loki replied, lowering his face. His cool blue eyes were eccentric against the black fur, acting as icy daggers into the back of Thor's head. The long black snout twitched as if Loki could smell through the nose of his otherworldly form. He must be able to. Ellie was enriched.

In a flash, Thor threw his head back and hit Loki. There was a loud smack of bone against bone. Thor used Loki's cower to turn and kick the wolf in the stomach. Loki was knocked upwards, the strength of Thor causing the onlookers to cry his name.

Annoyance rippled through Loki as he shook his head and ran at Thor again. His teeth barred, he snapped at his brother. Thor's arms came out and caught the top and bottom jaw. "A beast with the strength of a stringy boy!" Thor strained, pushing back against Loki's, or the _monster's _teeth. In reply, the creature growled.

In a flash, Thor released Loki's jaw, who went tumbling forwards and onto his chin in a dust-emitting heap. Fandral whistled, his face bright with amusement. Ellie tried to swap an inch of his joy with her muddled mind.

Thor ripped off his cape, tossing the grey-training fabric aside. His exposed arms were muscular, as thick as the base of an oak tree. With a metal bracelet strapped around his right wrist, it glinted in the startling sunlight streaming through the thin canopy above.

As Loki rose to his feet, Thor wrapped two arms around the back of his neck and pulled him backwards. The black wolf yelped, lifting a padded paw to swipe at Thor's face. It missed and continued to struggle in Thor's grasp.

Ellie tightened her grip on the Rosary, pulling it to her lips. A chill rippled through her as she remembered the night her and Loki first met. Burning wafted through her nose, biting at the back of her throat; her car had emitted such a putrid, tear-wrenching smell. _Save him, oh gentle Mother. Save Loki Odinson from any pain. I can't bare seeing any more of it. _

"C-Chokehold," she stuttered, trying to bring herself back to the present. "Chokehold is illegal, you know." Tamra glanced at Ellie's hand wrapped around the peculiar Midgardian bracelet. There was another cry of pain. "He's hurting him," Ellie gasped. "Look!"

Tamra placed a hand on Ellie's shoulder and shushed her.

"But, I…" Ellie's voice trailed off as she watched Loki's sleek-furred face contort from pain-filled and pleading, into annoyance and cunning. The wolf began to shift. It contorted its body, folding backwards like a board game. Before Ellie's eyes, the black wolf shrank in Thor's arms.

Its heavy paws sunk into his body, until there were no limbs and Loki was a long slim shape. Thor stepped back, slightly confused. Then, all of the onlookers were staring at the black snake on the ground. It was quite long and skinny, with large green eyes and a quivering tongue.

Thor reached for him. The snake hissed and snapped, threatening to bite Thor's finger. He retreated slightly and took a step back. "Loki, you bastard!"

"You really don't care who you annoy, do you, Silvertongue?" a great red-haired man laughed. He was followed by a short man, with sleek black hair tied into a spiky bun. Both were breathing heavily, holding long swords.

"The Warrior's Three," Tamra said into Ellie's ear. The professor's eyes swept over the newcomers and to the human's consternate look. "Fandral is the blond one – excellent warrior. In the battle against the Marauders, he destroyed two-hundred rebels with a boot alone."

Ellie, slightly dazed by Loki's transformation and the past they shared, quietly asked: "a shoe? How?"

"He's an agile fellow. Swift and cruel like a tropical storm," Tamra said proudly. "Behind him is Hogun, the people call him Hogun the Grim. He is a Vanir." Ellie watched him, slightly apprehensively. "Soft a petal if you aren't an enemy. Don't fret."

"And the redhead?" That one continued to clap and praise the two Odinsons, a smile larger than his gut on his face.

"Ah. Volstagg. The Valiant or the Fat." Ellie thought of Frigga's words as Tamra continued, "his size does indeed assist him on the battlefield."

War was normal for Asgardians. Were nightmares as well? Ellie had scarcely slept through her dreams for several weeks. She spent her days with Tamra, or in the loneliness of her chambers with one of the many books she had been informed to read. Some were in English, or perceptively in her native tongue, she could not be sure in such a magical place.

Eating breakfast and supper alone was also a dull affair for Ellie. She was used to her own company, but the roar of Asgardian feasts made her heart ache for it. There had been no news for her since the Völva's prophecy and her conversations with Frigga were fleeting; about language studies or how she felt in Asgard.

"How wonderful, my princes!" Tamra shouted joyfully beside Ellie. Pulled from her internal pain, the human looked back up at the gathered crowd. Loki had returned to his natural form, his face displaying a proud grin which flashed white teeth. Thor was laughing beside him, and they approached the Warrior's Three.

"Who won?" Ellie asked, surprised that both lacked hatred or annoyance. It was casually competitive and not an inch of resentment swarmed the air around them.

Finishing her clap, Tamra said, "Thor was able to pull Loki from around his neck in the end. It was a marvellous fight. I always love Loki's transformations. Such an unexpected delight."

Unexpected was correct. As were the company of warriors beginning the ascent towards Ellie and Tamra. Ellie didn't feel as intimidated as one should in the face of famous beings. She couldn't shake off the thought that most were equal, all children under the presence of her God.

"Tamra, you glorious soul," Thor's loud voice approached, "how does the fairest maiden in this land do on this day?"

Tamra laughed, her voice melodic and young. "As usual, you and your brother are near to stopping my heart. You know how my poor nerves are when you fight." The blond prince grinned.

"I can only apologise," he replied. "You shouldn't worry for me."

"Easier said than done. I have seen you grow, Thor. Or have you already forgotten your childhood?"

Thor took Tamra's hand, towering over her. It was as if a grandson was greeting his grandmother, gentle and caring became the air. "Never could I forget you. Nor my brother. He was always answering your unanswerable questions."

"The two of you are just as clever as each other," Tamra said gracefully. "Never forget that."

With complete sincerity, Thor said, "I must apologise again. I _am_smarter than Loki." The Warriors Three began to laugh behind him. At the sound of their snickers, the prince shot them a betrayed look. "Watch it. I'll set a snake on you."

"And that's smart, is it?" Volstagg chuckled. "Oh, Great Thor, you really are frightening."

"I shall use the venom to render you unconscious and then I will finish you off."

Hogun clamped Volstagg in the stomach with a loud thump. The redhead coughed. "If the venom can reach his bloodstream," Hogun said brutally. "This thick layer of fat protects against the most dyer of ailments."

"I'll crush you–" Volstagg began, lifting a huge arm.

"Not that hard to do." Hogun ducked around his friend with a sneer. Tamra raised a hand quickly, silencing them.

"Boys," she warned. Pulling their attention back to Ellie, she introduced the human. "This is Ellie. She is under the protection of Odin and will be staying in Asgard until the time being." At her words, Ellie finally heard aloud the truth of the matter. She was a prisoner in this world. Comfortable as she may be, there was no chance of her making it back to Earth without doing everything asked of her first.

"Ellie," a voice called. Looking up quickly, she met the blue eyes of Fandral. Up close he emitted an exciting, ever-growing kindness. She took his gloved hand and watched him raise it to his lips, keeping his eyes locked on her face. "Ellie Adams. I have heard about your presence here for several weeks. It is a pleasure to finally be acquainted. I am Fandral."

With her hand kissed by each of the Warrior's Three, Ellie was left feeling slightly more engaged with Asgard. The men were kind and attentive.

"How have you settled?" Volstagg asked, leaning against a long axe. "Is the Kingdom treating you well?"

"Very well," she answered quickly. "It's pristine. Completely different to my flat actually. The water here actually runs clear."

Hogun wrinkled his nose. "Sounds as if you lived in a cave? Is that how Midgardian's have grown since we last visited?"

Ellie snorted. "No, I don't live in a cave. The pipes around my flat are loose and faulty. So, the running water which is usually fresh and clean is dirty at the moment. Or, I mean, it was dirty when I left. I had to buy bottled jugs." Her rambling left the Asgardians disturbed, unable to grasp her Midgardian words. After a moment, Thor coughed.

"I trust you're enjoying the lessons, my lady?" he asked.

Ellie smiled, changing the subject. "Yes, they're very informative. Even though it's language, there's so much more about the universe than I imagined. It's kind of scary."

"As I can imagine it would be," Fandral jested. He was intrigued by the human, as were the entire court. "Humans are a rare sight in Asgard."

Thor snorted, "rare as in extinct. At first Ellie was petrified of us all. Petrified, my friend." Thor put one hand on Ellie's hand, clamping down like she was an old friend. She struggled to stand still.

Loki appeared behind Thor, having ascended the stairs with ease. His hair was tousled, having not survived the transformation from wolf to snake. As he removed his gloves, he shot Thor an annoyed look. "Hard not to be with you looming over her like beast," he said. Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek, momentarily worried that he was embarrassed by the horse incident.

"Beasts are what keep this world alive, brother! What would we hunt and feast on? Winter hunts are our favourite, are they not, Loki?" Thor greeted. "Your agility in the snow is incomprehensible, brother."

Loki continued past them, unaffected by the compliment. He didn't offer Ellie a glance. "Does a great duty to not be a thundering lug," he called back and disappeared inside a set of double doors. She watched the space he disappeared into, begging to ask about his magic.

"What are the winters like on Midgard?" Fandral turned to Ellie. "We Three Warriors hunted there once, taking down wildebeest and caribou in the harsh cold."

She met his inquisitive gaze. "Well," she said, "London doesn't have wildebeest unless you count the zoo. Caribou aren't hunted either, they're used as a prop for Christmas."

"Christmas is a festival, is it not? A red festival which celebrates a false God of winter," Thor informed the warriors around him. "They give gifts and trees to one another. So, I have read."

"How obscure," Fandral muttered, "you must be grateful to be away from such abnormality." Ellie could only laugh at their disturbed faces. Abnormal didn't exist in her dictionary anymore.

After a surprisingly calm, mundane conversation about Earth's festive customs, Ellie felt lighter. She was grinning ear to ear, watching the Warrior's Three bicker and laugh like old friends. They asked her questions about things she hadn't considered being _things_at all; the taste of British beef, Cottage Pie, or the fashion in winter. Volstagg's face was bright as she told him about the pastry pies they cooked in Camden Town. Hogun, a vegetarian, grimaced as Ellie described a Hog Roast.

"Turning a great hog on a spit," Volstagg guffawed. "Such marvellous talent these Midgardian's have."

Volstagg raised an eyebrow. "That is a custom we Asgardians do not engage with often."

"Oh, you should. A roaring fire, crackling wood and the smell of burning salt," Ellie replied eagerly.

Volstagg, in deep intrigue, scratched him beard. "Any sauce?"

Ellie nodded. "There is one Reverend Mother used to make: a Sichuan peanut and roast chilli sauce. Food from heaven."

In unison, their eyebrows furrowed. "Recipes from Valhalla?" Hogun questioned, looking her over. "How is that possible?"

Valhalla was a spiritual realm of the deceased. Ellie nearly cried aloud for remembering the fact. However, her acquaintances faces stopped the joyous celebration. "It's just a saying on Earth," she said quickly. Their shoulders slumped. "Ah," Hogun replied. "You speak using many phrases we do not understand."

"So do you," she said lightly.

"Tell me," he said, "who or what is a Gordon Bennett?"

As Ellie opened her mouth, Loki's voice appeared behind her. She turned around and found him expectantly waiting, his arms behind his back in a royal stature. "The Queen wishes to speak with you, Eurelia Adams." She sensed the warriors' eyes on her as she made her way towards him. In the sunlight, he was less sinister. Still, their night-time endeavours left her believing he detested her presence more and more. She met Tamra's gaze. The elderly woman nodded towards the doors, watching the human disappear inside.

"Brother, you as well," Loki called. Ellie entered the hallway with Thor at her side. On her other, was Loki.

"Is she okay?" Ellie asked him. "Not been attacked by another warg, right?"

Midgardian humour didn't settle well with the prince. He was disturbed and bit his tongue so a cruel remark wouldn't tumble out, especially in front of Thor's well-mannered presence. "No," was all Loki said, "she has not been attacked."

Disregarding the annoyance flickering across his face, Ellie pushed it. "It's not another meeting with that dried corpse, is it?"

"Neither is the Völva here to disturb you," he said.

Thor snorted. "I am glad you find that creature as putrid as I, Ellie Adams. Father keeps us away from it." There was a disgruntled noise from his brother. Ellie looked up at the blond.

"So how come I had to suffer him? His breath is terrible."

"As I have heard," he said lightly. "Father does not tell us much about your quest. It's a great thing bestowed upon you alone."

"Don't you want to know more? Surely as onlookers of this complete disaster of destiny, might I add, you'd want to know everything?" Thor's frown told Ellie the answer. He cared for the glory of quests, not the intricate pieces of a universal puzzle. In defeat, she slumped slightly and followed the brothers. Her corset itched, feeling tighter by the hour.

She scratched it.

Ellie struggled to keep up with the brothers. Thor, limber and strong, took the staircases three at a time. Loki, nimble and agile, kept up with him easily.

With each step, Ellie pull her skirts up high and stumbled over the fabric regardless. The stone echoed her steps, soft clacking calling all around her until it was only a single pair of feet making the noise. As she reached the top of the staircase, she found Thor and Loki laughing; having battled one another into reaching the top first.

Frigga stood against a stone wall which overlooked the royal gardens. There was a smile lighting up her complexion, her eyes dancing with amusement at the two men.

"Like a little beetle," Thor teased, hitting Loki's arm.

The raven-haired prince scoffed as he stood beside his Mother. "I won, regardless."

"Oh, we can have a rematch of our morning battle if you wish. I'll knock the air from you."

"Come on then you brute." Loki began to laugh loudly, the noise singing through the air.

Approaching the Queen, Ellie sensed the topic of their conversations was not going to be the weather. She stood beside her, feeling underdressed and mundane. Frigga's gown was grey with flute sleeves which draped the floor. The beads were embroidered with runes and they covered the stitching in a beautifully medieval manner.

"Our first meeting was one of brutality, Ellie," Frigga said, her voice haunting. Loki watched the human fight the grimace which threatened to come onto her face. The Queen Mother continued: "do you remember how to fought the creatures on that bridge?"

Ellie nodded, guilt seeping into her pores. "Yes," she murmured.

"The violence… did that scare you?" Frigga questioned, sliding her soft gaze to Ellie.

"Yes," Ellie admitted, "and no. When I… hurt that creature, I wanted to."

"You did the right thing, Ellie."

"Did I?" she asked immediately. Thor folded his arms behind her, frowning.

"The Queen would be dead if you hadn't intervened," he said. There was an edge of misunderstanding; similar to Cecelia. "My brother would be dead. Why do you question it?"

Ellie turned and felt the breath disappear from her lungs. Having tried and failed to make Cecelia understand the complexity of her philosophical and spiritual beliefs, it was only an endless battle she would face. With a shrug, she looked back at the Queen.

Loki watched Ellie with brute fascination. Doubt, annoyance and need radiated from her in waves of overwhelming Midgardian pity. He narrowed his eyes, an itch within him wanted her to retaliate with her Midgardian God. When she remained silent, there was disappointment biting in his head.

"Language was your first lesson, Ellie," Frigga continued. "You are doing well; so, I have heard. Second lesson, physical training."

"Exercise?" Ellie asked dumbly.

"Battle training. You are as useless as a new-born lamb. When the time comes for you to complete the prophecy, you must be ready in all aspects of war. This isn't your world anymore, Ellie."

"What?" she asked, her stomach dropping. "M-Me?"

Frigga wasn't surprised by Ellie's disbelief. She offered the human a half-hearted smile, it was all she could muster after the hours of relentless arguments with Odin. The King wanted to wait for Freyr to meet the human. However, Frigga's intuition was a pulsating, living creature which screamed that time was of the essence. "I apologise that this is all rash. It is the only way."

"Can't I just dip in and out? Drop the stone off and that's it?"

Frigga shook her head. "No, Ellie. I think you know the answer to both of those questions. The Àlkar stone's resting place is guarded by creatures of eternal darkness. You must be strong enough to reach the centre."

Ellie's heard birds squawking far away. Their screeches becoming fainter as blood rushed into her ears, swarming the drums and drowning her in damnation.

* * *

Numbly, Ellie returned to her chambers later that evening. Her appetite gone, her hope destroyed, and any maternal desire vanquished. Frigga was signing Ellie's name to a contract of death. Only death was the outcome of Ellie's journey. She was sure of it.

Cecelia was rushing out of the bathroom, her arms full of old towels. As soon as the girl spotted Ellie, her cheeks became flushed and she darted past her.

"Cecelia…" Ellie started, but the girl was already out the door and it was closing. The thud was gentle, barely a creak emanating. However, in the bitter wholeness of Ellie's chambers, it was like locking her in a prison. The air was swallowed from around her.

Grappling at her back, Ellie attempted to pull the corset undone by herself. Her fingers scraped at the knots and lace, to no avail did they pull it apart. They were tightening around her stomach and ribs, threatening to split her open like a strung turkey.

"Bastard thing…" she hissed, turning on the spot for a better look. "Just get it off of me." Yanking harder, the air was harder to intake. She scrunched her face up, panting slightly. "Damnit. Get off of me!"

Tears leaked from her eyes and her lip wobbled. Grinding her teeth together, the screaming sound of silence was making Ellie's situation harder to bare. She stumbled to the vanity table, one of her hands knocking over a pot of hair ribbons.

Yanking open a drawer, she rooted through with her other hand reaching behind her back. Crying harder, she let out a frustrated grunt. Her fingers grabbed the rose gold pair of scissors, long ones made for fabric, and shoved them into the front of her dress. Snipping along the intertwining lace, it came apart with a snip.

With the first layer off, Ellie pushed it from her shoulders and used her clammy fingers to undo the corset binding her body. Hot tears dribbled down her cheeks and lips, coming faster when she was free of the other layers.

Falling out of the long underskirt, she was finally bare. With the cold night air kissing her body, she made it to the fresh bed and grabbed the silk sheets once more. Her Rosary clutched in her palm, Ellie curled up held it to her lips. She inhaled the prayers of the Virgin Mary, calling for her warm arms and gentle voice. As she once did as a child, scared of the dark, she begged for the kindness of a mother.

* * *

References:

– Loki's power - after reading the Thor comics, I've decided to incorporate some depth to his character from this. Hope you don't mind! If you don't like it, please comment!

* * *

**please review / comment your thoughts – they make my writing improve and your experiences better! x**


	7. A Dancing Master

Worship of the Gods 

_"You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun."_

Shaun Hick

* * *

Chapter Seven: A Dancing Master

"On Earth, this is called torture," Ellie strained, bending her back so the agony was less so. Sunlight streamed onto Tamra and her human student, through windows made of yellow glass. The small room was situated in a tower far away from Ellie's room. It had been a warm up climbing the steps to reach it.

In a circular space, Ellie and Tamra were on two purple mats in the middle of the floor. The walls were made of glass, showing Asgard in its entirety to anyone inside. However, that meant that onlookers could watch Ellie struggling to train her muscles to work.

Since breakfast, Tamra had been instructed to teach Ellie the art of muscle relaxation and posture alignment. It was necessary if Ellie was to succeed in weaponry training.

On all fours with her wrists aligned with her shoulders and knees with her hips, Ellie firmly planted her palms on the ground and began to straighten out her legs. Her hamstrings became tight and begged for release.

"Remind me why I'm doing this?" Ellie panted, a bead of sweat dribbling down her forehead.

Tamra breathed evenly. "The fate of the Light Elves, dear one."

"Ah," Ellie said, "right."

"Now, hollow out the abdominals and engage your legs. That's it, Ellie." Tamra demonstrated with ease, moving her body like a lithe string bean. For her age, the woman was in remarkable shape. How was she old enough to have taught the thousand-year-old Odinsons and be as fit as a fiddle? "Move your torso back. And breathe…"

"Breathe…" Ellie exhaled the word, pain gushing on the final syllable. "Gordon Bennet. For an old bag, you sure are fit." As soon as the words fell out of her mouth, she slapped a hand over her face and crumpled to the floor. "I didn't mean that."

Tamra's eyes were closed. She released a long breath. Perhaps it was full of curse words and venomous retorts. Ellie watched her, fearing she was about to get the royal treatment in punishment.

"I– "she started.

"No," Tamra interrupted.

"Sorry– "

"Stop."

"But, I – "

Tamra huffed and opened her eyes with a snap. She resembled an annoyed mother. "Will you pipe it?" she asked. Ellie closed her mouth. "For an old bag, I am, what you Midgardians call, _fit_. From the tone of your voice I assume that is a compliment. I shall disregard the first part because I am especially generous."

Ellie cursed her inability to keep her mouth shut at times. On the bridge she had truly embarrassed herself in front of Loki and Frigga and it seemed her endeavours were continuing for everyone she met. With an awkward smile, border-lining a grimace, Ellie continued her stretch.

"Tamra," she started after a moment. "Is everyone on Asgard a God?"

"No. Why do you ask? We haven't reached that part of my teaching yet," she replied.

"We haven't, but – Loki said something to me a couple days ago. He called himself a God."

"He is one, as is Thor and Frigga."

An unsettling feeling welled inside of Ellie. God existed independently in thought, but he sustained everything in the universe. He was omnipotent and eternal. Loki was not all-knowing, neither was Thor. They all aged. "Gods are eternal beings. They sustain and create things," she said thoughtfully. Tamra scoffed at this.

"Who told you this?" she asked.

"I did a module on theism." Copying Tamra's relaxation pose, she continued, "Professor Martin, I think his name was. Complete loony, but he was passionate – made it interesting."

"Your Midgardian professor was wrong about Gods. As for the royal family, they are Aesir. Which is a tribe of beautifully gifted beings."

"Magic," Ellie said breathily and Tamra nodded. "So, they don't live forever? They're just powerful?"

"They're not just powerful. They evoke adoration, desire and power. Creatures fear them. The envious love them. Nothing matches the Aesir beings."

Ellie was unable to reply. Deep in thought about her own beliefs. She imagined Loki transforming into a wolf again and the darkness in his eyes as he fought his brother. Still, she couldn't bring herself to truly believe they were Gods at all.

"You're tensing," Tamra said pointedly. Ellie looked across and found her teacher giving her an annoyed stare. "The point of muscle relaxation is to relax and strengthen your body. Instead, you look as if your head is exploding. Remove the frown."

Ellie blinked but did as she was told.

They moved onto their backs, lengthening their core and exhaling any pent up frustration. Tamra didn't have many, her breathing was calm and controlled. Ellie continued to pant like a dog for the remainder of the session. She was sweating profusely from every pore in her body. The beating sun didn't help.

As Tamra pressed a muslin cloth to her forehead, getting rid of the beads of her own sweat, she got ready to head for lunch. "Will you join me?" she asked gently.

"Can I just… stay here for a moment? Catch my breath?" Ellie asked, looking up at her instructor. Tamra pushed a curl behind her ear, looking over the human. After a moment, she nodded.

"Yes, you may gather yourself. When the sun is highest, then you must go to the training hall in the South-East wing," Tamra said with a point of her hand at the shining beacon hanging in the sky above Asgard. Ellie looked away, listening for the gentle creak of the door.

With Tamra gone, Ellie's loneliness threatened to creep back with a vengeance. However, she crawled closer to the glass wall and took a seat. Straightening her back, she crossed her legs and held her hands in her lap. Rubbing a gentle thumb over the Apostle's Creed on her Rosary, Ellie hyper-focused on the smoothness of the varnished wood.

Unlike the runes dotted around Asgard, her Apostle's Creed was void of designs. It was plain; soft against her worrisome hands.

She looked up at the Kingdom laid out before her. Appearing as a golden-cast painting, it took her breath away. In the distance were floating gold statues. They hung in the sky, dipping and rising as if floating on an ever-existent sea. Narrowing her eyes, Ellie noticed they were heads. In the middle was Odin, his face smooth and gold. Around him floated other heads, one of a horned man, another was a woman with four eyes.

They turned like the Sun did in Earth's solar system.

Ellie looked down and ran a finger over the dark brown beads on her wrist. Believing the Earth was the centre of the universe was an ancient catholic belief which not many found truth in anymore. Even the Revered Mother insisted it was the Sun at the centre of us.

Coming to Asgard, Ellie was affirmed with the truth that human beings were not the centre of all life. They were infinitesimal. "How are we so small? Yet, you tell me that all life is sacred?" Ellie asked aloud. If it was her destiny to return this god-like stone, then murder was a crucial part.

"I do not seek pain, dear God," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I do not seek to hurt others; to fill my heart with murder; to be unforgiving. Find peace for the wargs I killed and his children. Fill them with light." Upon shuddering the final part of her prayer, Ellie was surprised that the words came from her mouth. Wishing peace for her enemy was crucial. Usually an enemy was an ex-boyfriend, or that one friend who snogged an old boyfriend, or the professor who failed one of her modules. Not creatures from another planet.

Warmth spread over Ellie's chest, holding her in eternal sunlight for an intoxicating moment. Goosebumps prickled up her arms and legs.

* * *

At midday, Ellie headed to the small training hall. It was empty except for a single man who stood in front of one of the tall stained-glass windows on the opposite side of the room. His curly, bright hair added to the lanky shadow of his entire body.

"Girl, you are late," he said. Ellie, aching slightly from her morning stretch, made her way towards him a little quicker.

"Who are you?" Ellie asked bluntly.

"My name is Bil," he said, his voice accentuated with something close to Geordie. He threw a sword at her. She darted sideways, watching it clatter to the floor. "You will catch it next time we see one another, girl."

Raising a thick black eyebrow, Bil shot the sword a nod. After Ellie picked it up, she held the grip unsteadily. It was the real thing, with a pommel, hilt and blade. It was much heavier than anything Ellie had held before.

"How did they use these?" she grumbled, tightening her grip.

"It's not a… what do you call it," Bil debated. "Baseball bat! It's not one of those, you're not about to hit a ball. One hand alone."

"It's too heavy," Ellie said as she lifted her right hand off and struggled to hold with her left. Bil nodded slowly, approving of her hand choice. "Good. Left will confuse your opponent, unless they are particularly skilled then it will make no difference."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Death is an option we are open to. I have to prepare you for all outcomes."

"Surely you can't be a good teacher if you're telling me I'm going to die."

"You believe I am telling you your fate?" Bil questioned, angling his body sideways. He began creeping across the room, one foot in front of the other oddly. "Not all of us possess the slithering art of Völva and prophecy, Ellie Adams. I'm here to teach you how to make death your slave." He moved closer, his black eyes dancing down to the sword. "Now, turn your body like me and show me your grip."

Moving her fingers with his gloved hand, Ellie watched how the spaces made the weight feel slightly worse. She flexed her hands.

"Don't squeeze it like the neck of a whore."

"I'll drop it if I don't," she replied quickly.

"How will you drop it? The sword is you. Connect your body to the blade. Your bones are made of steel, girl," the young man told her.

"My name is Ellie," she objected.

"Girl, child, human," Bil said. "You are a warrior. Now, you hold the grip. We begin our dance."

Ellie raised the sword and lunged at him. He swiped his own, throwing her off balance. For hours, she attempted to strike him. Until her muscles were aching, she tried and to no avail did she get an inch closer to him. All Bil did was tell her how to stand, how to dance and how to survive each time he killed her.

She left the training hall with sore arms and fingers. Gripping the sword was more hassle than it was worth, and Ellie felt as if she were decades away from being a slice of Bil's fighting ability.

Tamra, unlike Ellie, was wearing a fresh gown. Her hair was immaculate and pulled back into a fresh bun. There wasn't a slither of sweat on her face, or sign that she had been exercising at all.

Ellie slumped into the oak chair opposite Tamra's rune board. She pushed a hand through her knotted hair, pulling her palm away in disgust at the greasiness of it. It was a blessing that Tamra cared not for her appearance, only her skills.

Studying animals was her task for today. Surprisingly, the all-language was becoming easier to understand. There was some form of wizardry behind it, Ellie was sure. When she was a teenager, she attempted to learn French and could only master _Bonjour_sounding more like _bong-sewer_.

Using the quill was becoming easier. The scratching of the nib made her cringe, but quill and inkpots were a way of educational life in the orphanage, so it was simply re-awakening muscle memory for Ellie. She sketched a poor imitation of a_dain_, which was an Asgardian deer who ate leaves and lived in the forests of Asgard.

They were sacred; hunted for great feasts and the walls of rich merchants. Tamra described the delicacy of dian meat. It would arrive in ribbons on silver platters and Asgardians could eat it alone or sandwiched between two slices of crusty bread and oil.

"You know I haven't eaten lunch." Ellie's stomach rumbled loudly.

Tamra smacked her lips together, her eyes glinting. "With a crisp piece of oak lettuce and angrboda vegetable pieces – even Valhalla is jealous," she continued to tease.

The lesson continued for several hours. Ellie could feel her legs cramping up as the unused hamstrings moaned in laziness.

As Ellie sat in the warm sunlight, she yawned, "bjarn-dýr." She raised her hands to re-enact the animal. "Bear." Tamra turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Am I boring you?" she asked.

"No," Ellie shook her head. She blinked several times, trying to appear less tired. "Of course not."

Tamra scoffed but accepted the lie regardless.

"Köttr. Cat." Ellie leaned on her hand. "You know cats can sleep for twenty hours a day?" she asked idly. "They can sleep and sleep, only getting up to eat. Revered Mother used to have one and it slept in her office… on the windowsill… stretched out… in the warm sun…"

"You humans are impossible," Tamra gushed. "This session is over. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ellie blinked quickly. "What? Why? I'm awake. I'm listening!"

"You're mumbling about a cat, Ellie. Hardly coherently, either," she grumbled. Tamra ran a hand over the Asgardian board and it disappeared along with all of her diagrams.

"I want to learn more. I can do it, Tamra," she pushed, nearly knocking over the inkpot.

Tamra sighed, rubbing her temples. "I know you want to learn, but there is time to do so. You've already done quite a bit today regardless. Just go and sleep. Wake up tomorrow ready for my teaching and double reading comprehensions."

Ellie was defeated, but also grateful. Folding up her parchment and loading her arms with several books, she left the room. Sun fluttered through the windows of the castle so dust particles were illuminated in the air. They danced in front of Ellie, swirling and twirling in the gentle breeze.

The guards she walked past on a daily basis didn't attempt to hide their stares. At first, Ellie wanted to run back to her chambers, but it was becoming a normal affair. On that day, she was too tired to care.

Bil's fighting techniques plagued Ellie's mind as she settled in a chair inside of her chambers. Lunch laid out on a tray, she stared at the soft bread and chilli butter and could only see Bil's ashy hair in the yellow colour. There was a flagon of water and a brass goblet set out. A part of Ellie missed the awkward company of Cecelia.

Dreams of Bil lulled Ellie to sleep. She was practising with him, stepping around the master like a river-dancer. With a real sword in hand, she turned her body as a well-fought Asgardian would.

In her dreams, she was free of her inner turmoil. Gentle breeze swept about the training room, rustling stray leaves along the floor and up her legs. Kisses of plucked flowers floated around her as she dove and strike Bil like a steady warrior.

"Ellie," Bil said each time she landed the sword perfectly. "Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…"

No. The voice was different; faint and timid. Her dream became foggy, sweeping away like paint in a river.

"Ellie," Cecelia called again.

Groggily returning to reality, Ellie rubbed her eyes and stared up at the handmaiden. Cecelia was looking back, waiting patiently.

Ellie blinked in surprise, opening her mouth to greet Cecelia. She didn't hate the girl, not one bit, for telling Odin everything. Maybe she had only told her friends and then word had spread. Either way, it didn't matter. There was a human distaste Ellie couldn't help but feel towards her, but the only repercussion of that feeling was that Ellie would never tell Cecelia about her spiritual / universal beliefs again.

"Cecelia, I'm…" she began.

"A letter from her royal highness, Queen Frigga," she interrupted. Ellie fell silent, nervousness creeping in. What more news did the Queen have? Was she to dance naked in front of the Kingdom? Catapult herself across it? Marry an Asgardian to legitimise her being here?

She nearly laughed aloud.

Taking the pristinely folded letter from the tray, Ellie opened it and read the cursive English. Frigga's penmanship could've won art awards. As Ellie finished reading it, she noticed Cecelia was unfolding a number of silver fabrics.

"Dinner," Ellie muttered quietly, "they want me to eat with them."

* * *

References:

\- Bonjour/ Bong-Sewer – Hagrid's attempt at talking to Madam Maxine in _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _novelisation. Made me giggles for hours when I first read it.

\- Dancing Master – inspired by George R.R. Martin's _A Song of Ice and Fire _series where Arya learns how to parry with her 'dancing master'.

* * *

**please review / comment – it helps me improve ! **

**x**


	8. Crawling Forwards

Worship of the Gods 

_"And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain__  
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;  
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,  
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —  
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —  
This it is, and nothing more."_

Edgar Allen Poe, The Raven

* * *

Chapter Eight: Crawling Forwards

It didn't seem possible that a day on Asgard could be cloudy. Yet, the skies were dark grey and murderous with rain. Not a drop had been spilled yet, but Ellie could smell it coming. On Earth, the air was always crisp and clear before a downpour. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as a breeze swept through the open windows.

Ellie's leather boots were laced up to her knees. They were lithe, thinly made shoes which were sturdy on her feet but soft on the ground. If her and Bil ever trained outside, she wouldn't have to worry about splitting her heels open on a rocky terrain of some of the preparation theatres. Tamra showed Ellie, that morning, the vast buildings dotted around the upper kingdom which were used to host battle events or competitions between warriors. It took Ellie's breath away.

The circular arenas had thousands of seats running in rivets around a flat stretch of ground. When Ellie and Tamra had visited there were cleaners sweeping the wooden benches and a builder carving a faux mountainous terrain so the fighters weren't just battling their opponent but the environment.

Pulling on her sleeves, Ellie looked to Bil who was staring into a water basin in the corner of the room. He was twisting his moustache carefully, pulling it into a tight curl. Ellie rolled her eyes and relaxed against the stone wall, the cool stone making her shiver.

She continued to observe him, allowing her guard to diminish. As her muscles began to loosen, she exhaled. In an instant a dark brown object was flying through the air towards her.

Ellie let out a cry of shock and flinched away from the sword. Even if it was wooden. The _clank_, _clank_ of it hitting the ground made her stare at it in disbelief. "Shit," she cursed and glanced at Bil. One of his eyebrows were raised, nearly disappearing into his forehead. "You – you didn't warn me!"

"To say I am surprised would be a lie," he shot back, his crisp accent accentuating the annoyance. "You are a shadow. Dance like one." With a frown, Ellie picked up the sword and approached him. "Say it," he said loudly.

Ellie waited a moment, feeling rather stupid. "I am a shadow."

Flicking his wrist, he stepped sideways. "You are a shadow," he said again.

"I am a shadow," she repeated.

Bil was a nimble man. With no sunlight bouncing off his curly locks, he looked more like a cat instead of a strong, intimidating warrior. "You will dance like a shadow. Say it."

"I will dance like a shadow."

"You are a shadow. You will dance like one."

"I am a shadow. I will dance like one." As the words left her mouth, she entered the stance Bil taught her yesterday. With her sword-arm raised, her Rosary peered out of her sleeve like a peeping creature. Ellie flexed her wrist and the bracelet slid out of sight.

Side-stepping, she entered the darker side of the room. _Heavenly Father_,_ make me a shadow_. _Heavenly Father, make me a dancer_.

Bil lunged forward and Ellie caught his sword with hers. The clank echoed loudly. He moved his sword again and she turned her wrist, catching it. Her teacher was going purposely slow which Ellie's poor skills appreciated.

"Hand behind your back," Bil quipped. "Do you want someone chopping your fingers off?" Ellie held her hand behind her back, the pull of her muscles forcing her to straighten up. She needed to see Tamra for more stretches.

As Bil took a quick step forwards, Ellie took one back. It was fluid; like a dance. Their swords clanked again. A ripple of attentiveness slid through her and she moved forwards, sliding her sword from its query and moving it to Bil's other side. With his undeniable ability, he caught it, but raised an eyebrow. "Good," he said, his voice like butter. "Timid mouse coming out to play, no?"

Ellie's lip twitched, wanting to pull up into a sneer. She prayed for strength to not snap at Bil. It was infuriating that not a single soul managed to use her proper name, as if it was so difficult to pronounce compared to the titles of Asgardians. Even Tamra struggled through pronouncing the longest name in Asgardian history. One which Ellie could barely remember anymore.

In regard to herself, it was clear that no one was bothered with formalities if they thought little enough of you.

Ellie lunged forwards but Bil parried and knocked the sword sideways. Taking a step, Ellie missed the end of his weapon. With a great swing, she aimed for Bil's head.

Bil caught her sword with his and she was imposing her strength on him for the first time. He was strong, and Ellie was already out of breath as she forced every inch of her will out.

"Fuck," she said in exasperation as Bil pushed and she tripped backwards. Landing in a heap, she groaned and rubbed the side of her thigh.

Beneath the thin material of her dark purple trousers, she felt the bumpy material of scarring. It was the place she'd been attacked. How long ago was it now?

In her bath that morning she'd observed how the skin was dark purple and prickles around the scarred canine marks. With the ointment Cecelia was leaving her, the raised skin was slowly going down. Time felt a lot faster than Ellie remembered it being and on Earth, it should've taken near a year to recover.

It must've only been a month or so, right?

"Oh, a little ale break, girl? Shall I call a handmaiden? Start roasting a boar?" Bil teased impatiently. "How do you take your bread? Toasted?"

"I get it," she slid back. With a grunt, Ellie pushed herself to her feet and levelled with her dancing master. Bil parried with Ellie immediately. She couldn't stop cursing aloud. "Not very shadow-like, are you?" he commented.

Ellie moved forwards, striking his sword. "How am I meant to be something which isn't considered a thing at all?" Bil's elegant footwork pranced out of her way. He looked down at the ground and continued treading about the room, pointing his feet like an eloquent dancer.

Ellie realised what he was doing. Bil's dark shadow followed his movements, as it would, appearing as a silent entity against the stone. Its shape, sleek and black, surpassed as a deadly assassin.

Peering at her own feet, she watched her elongated shadow and flexed her foot out experimentally. Even as heavy-footed and mundane as she was, her shadow was as smooth as Bil's. Ellie waved her sword-hand around, testing the shadow in a manner like it was alive.

"You see the beauty of a shadow?" Bil asked and Ellie nodded. "That is you. The sensitivity of a shadow's creases; of the limbs and posture, is all you. Even a grotesque creature has a shadow made of lithe allure."

Ellie looked back up at Bil and met his steady gaze. "What about at night?"

"That's when the shadow crawls back up your feet and inside," he said, raising his sword and touching the nimble end to the middle of her chest. Holding her breath, Ellie raised her weapon and moved the sword away. His curled, dark eyebrow rose, and a grin emerged on his lips. "Come on, _human_."

She didn't move and waited for him to do it first. Their eyes were locked but Ellie could see that he was testing her. "How am I meant to be a shadow if you just stand there?" she said in exasperation. "I'm not getting any better." Bil said nothing, only watching her. It infuriated Ellie further. "Well?" she demanded. "Why don't you talk?"

Still, her dancing master remained silent. Ellie was becoming increasingly aware that she sounded like a little girl throwing a temper tantrum. Being so far behind the entire kingdom was one of the most irritating aspects of her life so far.

Ellie swallowed and was still for another moment, testing the atmosphere to see if the wind would miraculously tell her what Bil would do next. When there was no movement from him, except the twitching of his smirk, Ellie took matters in her own hands. A buried ferociousness emerged.

She span and raised her sword with a cry. Bil used two hands to meet it. Shoving Bil with all of her human strength, she brought the sword down on him again, and again.

Each time, she was met by him. Each time, she craved victory a little more.

Wind whistled through her ponytail which flicked her cheeks sharply. Sweat built up along her forehead and the long sleeve top was becoming uncomfortable. Her clothing was heavy on her body, constraining her movements. With a frustrated hiss, Ellie battled against Bil. His movements weren't as erratic as hers; he barely moved in fact. But he hadn't knocked Ellie over yet.

"Fight back!" she begged, her voice strained and distant. It was unlike anything Ellie had pleaded before. She felt alienated by herself. "Come on!"

"This anger," Bil enquired. "Oh, lovely. That's it!" With an undercut, Ellie was an inch from hitting Bil's legs, but he knocked the weapon sideways.

"I'm not angry. I'm fucked off," she hissed, "with being called _human_ like it's an insult."

"Is it not?"

Ellie changed her mind in the last second and swung the sword around her head and then against Bil's chest. He leapt out of the way, which was worth an inch of improvement compared to her first practise with him. Breathing heavily, she was still pulsing with annoyance and didn't have it in her to celebrate. Throwing the wooden weapon back at Bil, she crossed her arms and watched him with extreme dislike.

Bil caught the sword in his free hand. "You should use your anger. Anger gets your blood pumping."

Pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, she felt her voice shake with the fierce pumping of her heart. "That inferring your blood didn't pump before. I don't like being angry."

"It's the only emotion which will bring out the warrior," he said. Ellie didn't _want_ to be a warrior. She clamped her mouth shut and clenched her fists. "Soon, you will join the fleet of warriors. We are testing the water for you before you dive."

"What do you mean join the fleet?" she asked worriedly. "Will you not teach me until I'm completely ready?"

"I am parrying instructor. You only need me for the beginning."

"When will I start training with Asgardians? I'm not…" On her lips, the word died, and she felt dread creeping in. The thought of huge, strong fighters pitching against her was mortifying.

"Of course, you're not ready. You will be. A few weeks at most I'm told. Our King and Queen Mother have been assessing your lessons rather closely." As she looked around, she couldn't see a hidden surveillance camcorder. Then again, it was Asgard. They were probably using crystal balls and carrier ravens. Bil smirked at her fright. "Speaking of lessons, our time is over for today. Look forward to tomorrow, will you not, girl?"

Ellie wiped the clamminess from her forehead. With a swallow, she croaked, "you can bet on it."

"What did I say yesterday to you?" he asked.

"Which part? The failure bit?" Ellie's fingers twitched. "Or that I will catch it."

He was swinging both swords in his hands like a fire dancer would on Earth. "What have I said to you today?"

Cynically, she grimaced. "That I am a shadow," she replied, "and I need to dance like one."

Bil nodded, his thick curls bouncing. "Tomorrow you will catch it, girl. Tomorrow you will dance like a shadow. Don't fail me again, yes?"

Ellie's cheeks flamed red as embarrassment surged. She was torn between purposely catching the sword and throwing it out of the window before herself just to prove to Bil that she couldn't care less about any of Asgard. "Girl," Bil called.

Breath fluttered up Ellie's body, telling her what was coming. It was an indescribable voice which led Ellie into turning and holding out both arms. The wooden sword had already left Bil's thin fingers and was slicing through the air towards her.

Ellie stepped forwards and grabbed it, unangelically and boisterously. It hit her in the chin, but it was still gripped against her body. She clutched it with both hands and barked a laugh of disbelief. Her anger dissipated.

"I caught it!" she cried, "would you get a look at me! A-hah!"

Ellie began turning the sword, swinging it in circles. From the other side of the room, Bil's perplexed figure watched the human. He frowned as she turned around and acted as if the sword was a toy.

"War is not fun, girl," he commented, sliding a finger over the hilt of his own sword. Ellie didn't falter her celebration, only gliding over to the trunk of weapons and placing the wooden item back inside. She shot Bil a wink and a wave.

"See you tomorrow, dancing master," she called and swung open the studded door. As she hurried back to her chambers, she stuck her middle finger up at the wall.

* * *

Norse runes were an ancient practice. In Roberts' museum, you'd find displays of beads used by the Vikings — alongside their axes and swords. Mannequins adorned with fur capes held circular shields and their faces were menacingly upturned into cruel grimaces. Children would hide behind their parents and the adults would be startled by the cruelty presented to them. It had become a long-dead culture which Roberts had tainted.

Ellie turned a wooden bead over in her fingers. Grooves were coloured in white, illuminating the rune. She believed it was _Raidho_; the rune of travel. A carver had made this for her. It was not full of anger like the displays in London.

Even so, Ellie never visited the Norse exhibit in the museum.

Cecelia took the bead from her palm and continued with her braiding. Ellie wished she'd taken more interest in Nordic culture.

Pulling her hair, Cecelia had gathered either side and exposed the scalp with tight plaits. It led into an intricate made of braids. Only able to see her face, Ellie couldn't remember a time when she really looked at her face. There was blueish colouring beneath her eyes from her sleepless nights. A small bruise on the underside of her jaw from where she'd hit herself with her own sword.

Ellie winced as Cecelia's hand movements became strict and strong. She was only doing her job, but Ellie couldn't help the anxiousness which poked at her. The handmaiden was awkward and silent; ever since Odin had scolded Ellie. News must've spread to the servant quarters that an argument had ensued, and Ellie was left blubbering an apology.

Cecelia moved from Ellie's hair and to her face. She picked at the trinket pot on the vanity to press a number of powders onto Ellie's face. The Asgardian make-up was subtle. The dress bought to her was silver with flute sleeves. It was rather plain compared to Frigga's intricate designs, but as a human who was used to wearing drainpipe jeans, the plain dresses were uncomfortably over-the-top. Ellie slipped into the gown and held it to her chest as Cecelia tightened it.

"Is it that big hall with Odin's throne?" Ellie asked as she watched the silk tighten around her waist. There was a set of matching shoes at the foot of her bed; similar to Midgardian kitten heels. How they would feel on the long walk to her destination filled Ellie with dread.

Cecelia shook her head. "The royals have many dinner halls. Every night the princes dine with the Queen Mother and Allfather. More often than not there are numerous guests joining them."

"The letter said Eyaer Hall. Is it far?"

Their eyes met in the mirror. Through the silver gloss of their reflections, Ellie digested Cecelia's mistrust. Her emotions were sealed tightly and guarded in a vault of Nordic faith. Ellie held her handmaiden's gaze, searching for a slither of friendship.

Cecelia dropped her eyes to the top of Ellie's head. "You will be escorted by the Queen Mother. She will arrive shortly."

Curling her fingers over the sides of the chair's arm, the soft velvet cushioned the harsh digging of her nails. A part of her wished it was the palm of her hand she was digging into; only then would the pain take away her anxiety. Instead, Ellie moved her arm forwards and allowed her Rosary to drop out of the sleeve.

It dangled against the wooden frame of the chair, clinking slightly.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned a nun pulling at her hair. She was seven again and sat on a wobbling stool which was worn and creaking after years of use. Beside her was a line of orphans waiting to have their hair combed and pinned into a tight bun. Cascading hair was rare as children were welcomed into the Carmelite Nunneries before joining the orphanage. Still, Ellie had a short mop of curls which frizzed with the horse-hair brush.

_"Be still." _Sister Bonita would say. _"Wriggle anymore and we'll be putting you on the end of tackle." _

Ellie withdrew from the memory and opened her eyes. A thankful breath left her lips, but she wound a finger around her Apostle's Creed, nonetheless.

As Cecelia drew the braiding to an end, Ellie skin was pulled tightly at her forehead. The hair was situated down the middle of her shoulders in a firm plank of fishtails intertwined with Dutch weaving. She felt one of the beads and realised it was dyed bone.

Ellie turned to ask Cecelia another question as the door opened. "My Queen," Cecelia gushed immediately, startling Ellie. The bewildered human watched as Frigga strolled inside and smiled fondly. Behind, a servant boy was carrying a silver, ornate box.

He was young by Ellie's standards, but to Asgardians he could've been three hundred years old. The human had much to learn and could only watch with an inquisitive stare. Frigga took the box from her follower and he scarpered out of the door.

Dressed in flowing red, Frigga's extravagant dress slid over the floor for another two feet. With runes sewn into the fabric, Frigga could've adorned a Norse book for all Ellie knew.

Ellie followed the handmaiden's movements and stood up quickly. She lowered her head and copied Cecelia's movements. Despite Ellie's efforts, her royal greeting was hesitant and awkward. Two quaint braids, which Ellie didn't realise Cecelia had made, fell onto either side of her face. They ended with ceramic beads.

"Beautiful work, Cecelia," Frigga approached gently. "Appointing you was a decision well made."

"Your praise is a blessing of the highest regard, your highness." Cecelia ducked her head once more, clasping her hands together. The air rippled with appreciation and gratitude.

Ellie smoothed down the back of her dress as Frigga approached her. The Queen Mother reached a hand towards the human's hair and gracefully trailed a finger over the sculpted beads hanging just out of Ellie's eyeline. Despite the tightness of her hair, Ellie's scalp was free of an ache.

Her eyes fell to the box in Frigga's other hand. With a small creak, Frigga opened the box and removed a dangling piece of jewellery.

Cecelia took a rushed step forward. "My Queen, I am able to apply…"

Frigga interrupted her smoothly. "There is no need, Cecelia," she said. "Ellie is my guest and out of courtesy of the court, I am able to do this once." The piece was an intricate brooch. Two oval pieces were strung together by colourful beads and they acted as clothing fasteners, completing an outfit fit for any guest.

"You are representing a member of Asgard," Frigga informed her as she began to attach one of the ovals on the left-side of Ellie's breastbone. There were knots of bronze on the pieces and they must've been a symbol of Odin. "These will inform our company of your place."

Ellie ran a finger over the cold grooves. "It says everything? About me? Even about the light-elves?"

This amused Queen Frigga. A smile grew wider on her face and she met the bright eyes of the curious human. "No, child," she said lightly. "The symbols speak of Odin's power. By wearing it, you are under his protection. No one will question your presence now." Frigga finished fastening the other piece to Ellie's dress. As Ellie watched her nimble fingers work with the metal, she begged her God for forgiveness. Devoting her body to another God was sinful.

_It is my inner soul, which is yours_, _Heavenly Father_. At least her Rosary was hidden away. Imploring her Catholic beliefs was of no use anymore and if she were to remain faithful, it would have to be in silence. _My inner voice is yours, Heavenly Father. My mind will never belong to another. _

The Queen looked her over and met the human's gaze. There was such intensity in her that it took the Asgardian's breath away. "There is no need to be afraid. I suppose it is similar to a banquet on Midgard."

Leaving Ellie's chambers, the human struggled to remember the last time she had dined with company on Earth. The apartment in London was small, with only enough room for a one-seat table in the corner of her kitchen. Still, she rarely used it and its surface was piled with documents about Plato or Friedrich Nietzsche.

Frigga noticed Ellie's quietness and took her arm into her own. Her voice was tranquil: "speak your mind, Ellie Adams."

"The only banquets I ever went to was when I was a child." In the enormous hall of her orphanage, streams of girls sat munching on bread, soup or porridge. "They weren't in golden castles and they definitely weren't with spit-roasts and beer."

Frigga had seen many Midgardian dinners in her lifetime. However, they had changed drastically and the brief visit to London didn't give enough time discover how. "Tell me about these Midgardian feasts."

Ellie pursed her lips. "Extravagant food was a luxury the Nuns couldn't afford, I suppose. There were hundreds of us girls with hungry stomachs and mouths to feed." Ellie's eyes glazed with memory as she told the Queen of her sunrise breakfasts, which was a wooden bowl of watery oats. The older girls were bully smaller ones for extra portions and so the smallest only shrunk, and the largest got bigger. Lunch was bread and steaming soup whilst dinner offered varieties which made all of the girls giddy with excitement.

"Once, we had bread pudding," Ellie recalled fondly. "It was so hot that we all burned our mouths."

Frigga's eyes widened. "You must've not been able to eat it."

"That made us want more!" Ellie laughed quietly. "The sugar melted in our mouths and it was like eating a cloud of sweetness. It was one of the rare times we were allowed second helpings."

Such a life Ellie remembered. Frigga absorbed the memories rippling from the human; as melancholy as they were. The Queen tightened her arm inside of Ellie's, nearly able to _taste_ the softness of bread pudding. "Your childhood echoes in your mind often, doesn't it?"

Ellie frowned, her smile dropping. "I suppose it does."

"It's not a flaw in you, I assure. So long it has been since we have connected with Midgardians."

With a shrug, Ellie pulled her eyes away from Frigga's. "Well, if I'm stuck here, memories are all I have now."

Rounding a corner, there was a tall set of open doors. Guards stood on either side with long spears in their hands. Friendly commotion emerged from the room. Ellie craned her neck, peering closer at the unfamiliar people inside. She sought strength from God and clenched her fist around the end of her Rosary again.

"You will enter the court first," Frigga said down her ear. "I will enter shortly after and the feast will begin." Ellie whipped her head up, feeling like a child on her first day of school. "Come now, you are here for a reason."

"Right," Ellie breathed, unhooking her arm from Frigga's. "Come on, you fought a bloody wolf, you stupid bint. Begging your pardon, your Highness. I'm talking to myself."

Holding her hands together, Ellie walked between the guardsmen and held her head up. Warmth splayed over her as she entered the small hall. There was a fire in the centre and a circular ensemble of tables, where dozens of seats where situated and occupied by regal guests. A skinned goat rotated on a spit, already dark brown from the flames' licking.

Ellie swallowed, feeling rather ill.

"Presenting Lady Eurelia." Ellie jumped, holding a hand to her chest. Beside her was a bugling man with a scroll in his hands. His face was sunken by chubby cheeks and a neckline which was non-existent. It must've protected his vocal cords. "Seated beside Ser Aelfred and Lord Finbar as requested by the Queen Mother."

With her heart racing inside of her chest, Ellie struggled to control her breathing. She felt sweat on her back. A wooziness came over her as she followed the man's directions to take a seat beside counsellor Aelfred – he wasn't overly fond of Ellie.

The servant pulled the seat out for Ellie. She looked around at the other guests and swallowed as several watched her curiously. Their eyebrows furrowed or raised in confusion. As Loki said, humans reeked of morality.

Yanking her chair back beneath her, it made a clamorous creak. The chatter in the hall rippled close to silence.

"Fantastic of you to bless us with your company, Lady Ellie," Thor vocalised. "Isn't it, brother?"

Loki, who had a goblet half-raised, raised a dark eyebrow. "Indeed. As it is a pleasure to dine with _all_ of our guests this evening."

"Here. Here!" a beefy man cried, lifting his glass.

The same man who presented all of the guests that evening blew into a horn, alerting Ellie to the doors. "Presenting the Allfather and Queen Mother to the Eyaer Hall," he boomed, and the room went quiet. Odin and Frigga entered gracefully, holding one another's hand. With smiles, the guests clapped and raised their goblets again.

Odin picked up a grey horn full of ale. He raised it to the guests and curtly nodded to half a dozen of them. "My friends. Bless you for joining myself and Queen Frigga for a delicious feast."

A woman enamoured: "our Lord's presence!"

"May their light guide us for eternity!" another echoed.

Odin and Frigga took their seats nearly opposite Ellie. They wore matching attire and over Odin's heart was a Norse sigil of power. He leaned on his elbow and began conversing with his wife, motioning to the company in the room and the cooking goat.

A servant poured red wine into Ellie's goblet. She took a sip and couldn't help but take another. On Earth, she adored opening night ceremonies at the museum because of the delicious wine Roberts ordered.

"Pray tell me, did you lose your luggage on the way to the feast?" Aelfred questioned the pot-bellied man on Ellie's other side. Ellie's eyes widened and she nearly choked. With a small cough, she glanced at the pair of them and lowered her goblet quickly. She was sure his name was Lord Finbar, a leader of somewhere far away.

Lord Finbar leaned across her and clinked his goblet against Aelfred's. "Ah-ha. You have always made me feel welcome, Ser."

"You should've complimented me before this meeting. Then I would've assisted you with your attire."

"You may always remove it for me afterwards."

"Behave, Lord Finbar. Your wife has the power of sight, does she not?"

"Indeed! She complains of my sexual adventures rather often."

Aelfred scoffed into his beverage, his eyes dancing with amusement. At least homosexuality wasn't treated in the same manner as it was in medieval society. Lord Finbar turned to Ellie, his thick brow besotted with curiosity. "And who may you be, little Midgardian?"

Frigga assurance had clearly been a lie, or Finbar was just a nosy brute. Ellie's voice faltered as another intervened.

"The daughter of a warrior on Midgard," Aelfred informed Finbar. "It is tradition for the Allfather to praise the offspring of Midgardian men."

"Really? What is your last name? I may have known this fellow."

Red burned Ellie's cheeks. "It's, well," she mumbled, "it's…"

Aelfred picked up a fresh goblet of alcohol, playing off casualty. "Adamson," he informed Finbar. "Yes, he was Adamenor the Valiant. Rather brave and loyal to the Allfather." Lord Finbar frowned again, placing a finger against the lip hidden in the crevices of his beard.

"Adamenor the Valiant…" he repeated. "I may recall such a warrior after a drink or two, perhaps. You must be proud of your heritage, girl."

Ellie nodded, burning under the stare of Aelfred. "Yes, uh, yes! I am so proud of that great-great grandfather of mine. My father enjoyed a feast here as well, I guess it's just my turn."

Lord Finbar took the goblet from Aelfred and lifted it to his mouth. He glugged it loudly and laughed. Ellie was aware of the eyes on her; court members, royal guests and councillors like Aelfred couldn't help but study her. She guessed that only a few knew of her assigned task, but most of them knew she was Midgardian. As Loki had said, it leaked off of her like a fog.

With her cheeks still hot from the stressful interaction with Finbar, Ellie turned to search for the son of Odin. Her eyes found him, half-hidden by the burning goat. Orange flames licked up the sides of the creature, making Loki look as if he were sat in a shadow.

His black attire and raven hair hid him well. Only his pale skin and bronze goblet stood out enough for Ellie to know it was him. Beside him sat a young woman with white hair, startling against her complexion and silver eyes. She was in deep conversation with him as they both sipped from their drinks.

Servants began to carve into the goat. Strips of the animal were laid onto plates along with Asgardian vegetables and sauces. Ellie lost sight of Loki and felt her stomach grumble with hunger.

"Thank you," she said to the servant as he placed her dinner in front of her. Dark brown and cooked well, the goat was soaked with herbs. Ellie cut a piece up alongside a green string-bean and began to eat. With the clanking of cutlery and goblets, Ellie preferred to listen to the socialisation of the feast.

Thor laughed loudly on the other side of Aelfred, banging the table with his drink in joy. Ale splashed the ground and his plate, but no one seemed to care. With his fingers, he picked up a piece of goat and ate it. Juice dribbled down his stubble when he grinned widely. "You are highly enjoyable company, Ragnar," he boasted to a bearded, elderly man. "Tell me another joke. Go on!"

Ragnar was holding a piece of goat. With a greasy finger, he scratched his bead and obliged to the son of Odin. "Did I ever tell you about the liderc who appeared on my doorstep?"

Ellie's strained to listen to the man's story. Liderc's were sexual deviants to had sex with their victims until they died, it was a rather quick topic Tamra went through. Probably to mirror the life expectancy of the _willing_ victims of such a creature. Aelfred's unimpressed face turned sour.

"Bit like pub talk, isn't it?" Ellie said offhandedly, a tiny smile emerging onto her lips.

Aelfred shot her a look. "Brewery chatter is not something light elves engage with."

"Come on. Everyone loves a pint."

"A pint?"

"Or jug," Ellie pointed at the metal drinks dotted along the tables. "Or horn," she snorted, eying the long one which Odin had begun to drink from.

Aelfred remained unconvinced. "Doubtful."

"Are meals always like this?" Ellie tried ask him, plopping a slice of carrot into her mouth.

"Nay," he replied. She blinked, reminding herself that Aelfred was nothing like the British men you'd find in a pub, able to joke about anything and laugh until the sun rose. "These are for the invited; private dinners for private affairs."

"Ah," Ellie said, "I got an invite too."

"Mm. As your presence had made obvious."

The short words belittled Ellie's attempt at light humour, light conversation and light social skills. With a heavy sigh, she focused on her food and found the spices to tickle her tongue and tingle her taste buds for more. The goat was perfectly cooked and juicy as it slipped down her throat.

"When your insides are cold – the walls of a goat's stomach you must eat," Finbar said. "If you are chilly, try it with a smidge of fennel and leak gravy." Ellie's fork stilled and she frowned at him.

"Cold?"

Finbar spoke with a mouth full of food. A piece of meat sloshed around his mouth like laudry in a washing machine. "Great-grandfather told you nothing about using a goat's hide for warmth?" he asked Ellie.

"I think knitted blankets were the popular item." She pushed her plate away, shivering at the thought of Finbar's mushy food.

"Knitted blankets? You need some lessons in Asgardian decorum."

"I mean fashion is individual taste, isn't it? Odin doesn't wear goat hide."

"Odin is the King, girl," Finbar retorted. "He could wear a fanny pack made of testicles and I'd kneel for him."

"Do you think he would?"

"He is the Allfather, what do you believe?"

"Well, I…"

Finbar scoffed and ripped a piece of bread out of the loaf situated in the middle of the table. "For the daughter of a great warrior, you really are a few beads short of a rune."

The Lord looked away from her, finishing the conversation with a cruel quip of his tongue. Ellie peered at Aelfred as he finished his dinner. Some of the guests were departing, wiping their mouths and plates before leaving the hall. Servants began clearing the empty goblets.

Feeling slightly lost, Ellie picked at her thumb nail. Bare and unpolished, the short thing looked tatty. She was unsure whether she was allowed to leave and looked up at Frigga who gave the girl a curt nod. The Queen had been in deep conversation with Odin.

Ellie wished she'd sat closer to someone who was more understanding.

Odin leaned into Frigga's side, drawing her attention away from the Midgardian. "Frigga," he said, "you have your human pet; you are keeping her, training her and now she looks at you like a babe would to its mother."

Frigga looked away, sadness covering her face. She was pained, at war with her husband's emotional inability to understand Ellie. It wasn't unlike Odin to be mistrusting and sharp; he was a King and learned the hard way that the universe wasn't an ethereal dream.

"We both agreed that it is for the best. She is the only one who can awaken the Àlkar which means she will restore Alfheim to its eternal glory. Why do you hate her so?"

There was a heartbeat of silence. "I do not hate her. I find it distasteful that a human is the answer to Freyr's prayer. What if she a false idol? She has been bewitched by Hel, or the wargs have accessed dark magic and she is a vessel of false power."

"I can feel it, my love. She is pure – and strong," Frigga pleaded, pushing a hand against her heart.

"We have been tricked before, Frigga."

Frigga leaned on her elbow, looking deep into the blue sea of her husband's eyes. He remained still beside her, his face illuminated by the fire. "Not everyone is riddled with darkness," Frigga said gently, her voice carried in the warm air. She placed a soft hand over his and bought his aged eyes to meet her. "If she is a vessel of false power, then either way she is able to enter the shrine of the Àlkar and return it. We must treat her with kindness, not hatred. For that will blossom the true monsters which will trick us."

"In the end, only she will be in harm's way."

"Which is why we must train her to protect herself."

"Or die _after_ the quest is completed."

Odin and Frigga were the last to retire, as always. It was expected of the King and Queen to be the last awake and standing. As they sat in their dining chairs, they paused and watched the remaining guests departing. Frigga looked to Ellie. The girl sat staring into the smouldering coals, her face hard, looking deep into the flames.

As if sensing an onlooker, Ellie's eyes snapped to the Queen. Frigga offered her a sad smile to which the girl rose and left the room.

* * *

References:

\- Liderc – Hungarian folklore – a sexually deviant woman born from a black chicken egg.

\- Shadows – in norse mythology, shadows are seen as the soul. It is visible evidence of what exists inside of the body.

\- Eyaer - norse word for see and observe.

* * *

**thank you for reading – please comment so I can improve and make your reading experiences better!**


	9. See-Through

Worship of the Gods 

_Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless?_

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

* * *

Chapter Nine: See-Through

_I am a shadow_. _I will dance like one_. Ellie wobbled on the wooden pole. She stretched her arm out, angling her sword towards a vacant opponent.

The moons were high above her. They cast shadows around the training hall, and they moved like phantoms when she did. Some were tall and others were short, but Ellie wasn't sure which moon caused which shape. Silence fell over the vast space and only her hammering heart echoed in her ears.

As well as Bil tuts and tongue clicks. "Easy, now," he said precariously.

He followed her movements along the balancing pole. Only a couple of meters above the ground which Ellie was thankful for. She hadn't fallen once that night, but she hadn't reached the end of the pole. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as Bil clicked his tongue again and continued to observe. She shot him a glare.

"You're a bit feisty tonight," he shot. "Did you have something spicy at the feast?"

_I am a shadow_. _I will dance like one._

"Hm, silence. You must still be chewing. I'm thankful for your manners."

_I am a shadow_. _I will dance like one._

Her first dinner with company was only a few hours ago and the food sat warmly in her belly. She liked to imagine it was the weight of it which was making her wobble. Not her inability to balance.

In her nose lingered the smell of crisp meat and rich wine. In her mind lingered the testing eyes of Odin and his sons. She clenched her fist around the sword and wobbled as she practised swinging it.

It _should_ be easy to balance. She had ripped the outer dress off and was wearing the white under garment; still a long cotton dress, but lighter and easier to manage.

Bil had caught her in the hallway and offered a distraction from her nervous temperament. The idea of a dream infused with the wandering gaze of Asgardian royalty hardly pushed Ellie to decline her dancing master's offer. However, there was no way, in hell, she would wear the pompous attire of Asgard a moment longer.

With a furrowed brow, she took a step forward. She imagined Bil on the other end of the pole with his weapon outstretched, arching his smirk and sword as if they were truly capering.

_I am a shadow_. _I will dance like one. _

Pushing away the thoughts which caused her heart to race, Ellie blinked slowly and tantalisingly. Strapped to her wrist was a piece of her God's love. The beads were gentle; caressing her skin. Soft kisses of their wooden material sent shivers up her arm.

Ellie took another step forward. And another. Another after that one. Bil's voice was distant, far across the physical universe and unable to penetrate the spiritual world Ellie's mind dwelled. She scarcely noticed his sarcastic comments; how much he wanted his bed, his pole back, and his time.

Closing her eyes, Ellie floated in a religious harmony. The air was crystal blue. Clouds of heaven flowed past, sparkling with stars and the eyes of God. It was beautifully warm there. As was the voice, soft and deep all around her. It murmured: "you are a shadow. You will dance like one."

Concentrating, Ellie's lips parted as she exhaled. Her palms were coaxed by the Ethereum. Her mind was for her alone. Except, she wasn't alone. God was at her side.

"You are a shadow. You _are _dancing like one."

Ellie opened her eyes and looked down at the solid pedestal beneath her feet. Flexing her toes in her sandals, she looked up and met the deep look of her dancing master. He had one finger pressed to his lips and his head tilted to the side. After several moments, he straightened. "Hardly a Dökkálfar, but you're getting there."

As she reached the floor, she grumbled: "hardly a provider of compliments. Moody git."

"Asgardian hearing is a wonderous thing," he shot back.

Ellie ignored him. She wasn't in the mood to go back to bed, she wanted to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere with a world like the one she imagined; full of calmness and solitude. "Where's the Library?"

"There are several libraries."

"One which is quiet."

"Do you know what a library is?"

Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms and settled her annoyed stare on his pretentious moustache.

"Try the one atop the seventh staircase in the western wing," he said and disappeared from the room.

Ellie carried her dress to the library. Thankfully, she didn't run into any guests, guard or royals. Swishing, the white cotton breezily fluttered around her legs. The cool air was refreshing.

As she walked past each high window, several shadows joined her. The several moons above Asgard were large and small, reflecting the light of a thousand suns.

Ellie reached the library a little later than expected; she had gotten lost and taken the first right instead of left. She stared up at the ceiling in wonder, amazed at the size of everything in Asgard.

This library was circular, with a tapered ceiling that rose to a point. It must be inside a tower, gold-crested and royal. Every wall was lined shelves and books reaching so high that tall ladders were situated at intervals for readers. Each book was leather-bound and thick, crested with golden lettering and borders. As Ellie ran a finger over one, she discovered that were all clasped with hinges and locks. Some were brass and others were silver depending on their importance.

A rather thick, green one had an emerald in its spine which shimmered in the firelight. There were a number of torches positioned around the wall, endlessly burning so the night-owls could enter whenever.

Beneath her bare feet, the polished wood was inlaid with gold. There were runes and fine line art which Ellie struggled to understand. She frowned and walked over a large image of…

"Serenity," she said, deciphering the rune. "Hm."

At the far side of the room was a bay window. Carved out of wood, the heavy oak seat was strewn with plumped cushions. The dark curtains were pulled back and in the far sky sat a moon. It looked down upon Ellie through the glass. She walked forwards and took the seat, staring up at the sky.

When the glass fogged with her hot breath, she reached for a random book on the bookshelf beside her and plucked it. In this room, there were no guards chattering, no horses whinnying and no guests giggling. She leaned into the pillows and began to read.

* * *

Ellie stretched her neck as she finished a chapter about the deer on Asgard known as dain. They were mythical creatures which ate the leaves of the Yggdrasil but also lived in each realm. Even Alfheim, the realm she would save.

As she started reading about the wolves on Asgard, she spotted the crow's nest on the window sill. She was careful not to spook the sleeping mother as she leaned her head against the glass. The Asgardian crow was big with thick, black feathers and round eyes. A gust of wind rustled its feathers.

Up so high, Ellie reminded herself that she was completely alone. In the dead of night, Asgard was a glistening city which thrived even in slumber. The window was cool against her forehead. Yellow lines of the royal tower, the arenas and singing statues cut deep against the sky. Ellie looked closer at how the sides and tops of buildings sparkled like stars, illuminating the real ones which existed beyond. To her right was a large firepit on the edge of the city, not burning red, but orange and releasing irredescent smoke. Ellie felt that she could gaze it for ever.

Asgard's appearance; its people and beings – was like a dream, a thing beside her actual life. She could remember how clear Frigga appeared on the bridge, how serene Loki's voice was slicing through her pain. They didn't belong in a place so mundane.

It seemed to Ellie in that moment, that the Earth was desolated by grit and iron, it was a place of little peace and glory despite her Almighty's prayers of beauty. If anything, Earth seemed to mock her, to mock the material boundaries it placed on its people – the suffering of the poor, the pollution and murder.

Ellie felt as if she'd ascended into a vast splendour and could be lost – lost for eternity and never return to her past life.

Did she want to? Ellie had no family. Her social life had been pitiful after university and she doubted philosopher class-mates cared much for frequent reunions. What did she really have to rush back for? Her research and job – if Roberts hadn't sacked her.

In her dwelling thoughts, Loki Odinson entered the library unheard. The moonlight was strong enough to show her resting outline and scrunched features. He had recently left the feast and was informed by his father that Lord Freyr of Alfheim was making his way to the Kingdom. The news wasn't a shock. However, Loki's appetite for the maiden who'd accompanied him was lost and he decided against his desire and sought to see the Midgardian.

Why? He could not answer.

Ellie rubbed her eyes. It took several moments for her to discover they were tingling with sleepiness and dust. She blinked slowly and went to move when there was a sudden noise and the shuffle of a shoe.

With a shriek, Ellie's head snapped. She curled her fingers around the book and threw it as hard as she could towards the source of the noise. Loki Odinson stood glaring at her with the book in his right hand, having caught it mid-air and with more grace than Ellie contained in her pinky finger.

"Oh, shit," she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "I-I'm sorry."

"Ah, a book, one of the most fierce-some weapons in the entire universe." Loki's furious gaze watched the human. She meant to harm him. "Pray tell me, Midgardian, why do you insult me further?" he asked.

"I thought you were an intruder or spy, or you were someone coming to hurt me."

"You believe that I am one for voyeuristic activities? That I am one to pounce on a Midgardian like a thief in the night?" Annoyance burned Loki, he took a step forwards, his gaze dark. Satisfaction rippled up his spine as Ellie recoiled against the window. "Speak, Eurelia," he ordered.

"Of course, I don't think you were spying on me. I was, I was scared! I thought you were Bil or Thor–"

"My brother is one for voyeurism, is that your plea?"

"No!" Ellie yelped, her voice shaking. "You might've been part of some training exercise. I saw it in a movie once. I mean, you know. I'm sorry." She moved, pulling her legs off the side so they were facing the prince. Her heart thudding slower than before, she could only chew the inside of her cheek.

Loki watched her for another moment and then he walked forwards and placed the book down near her hand. "You should thank your God that I was not Odin." Ellie shuddered at the thought.

Picking up the book and holding it to her chest she said, "can't help being a bit sensitive. I am human after all."

"No," Loki said, his voice distant. "No, you cannot help being a weakling."

She resisted the urge to throw another book at him. "You must get complimentary lessons from Bil," she muttered. "Are you here to throw remarks? You can just ask me to leave."

"Icy words are my forte."

"Is that why they call you Silver-Tongue?"

Loki raised an eyebrow. He had many names as did his brother, but a slithering part of him was bewitched by the darkness of magic. Not that he would dabble in it, but still, playful fear was exciting. "Is that name shocking for you?" he asked.

Unable to pull her gaze away from him, she recalled the Sister's scolding her for having the tongue of the devil. It was for snapping back. "In Genesis it says that 'Satan with his silver-tongue approached Eve'. It's also mentioned in Psalm 52."

"Who do you think influenced who?"

"_You_were clearly influenced by the Devil," she shot, intimately offended by what he inferred. Clearing her throat, she looked away. "Sorry. Bad memories. They say that 'the words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but war was in his heart: his words were softer than oil, yet they drew swords'."

The prince scoffed. Seeing how the human's face flushed at the idea of the Devil as a real creature was laughable. These Midgardians and their false Gods was real entertainment. "Are you scared of the Devil? Is that why you remember these phrases?"

Ellie shook her head, feeling thin pieces of hair falling loose from her braids. "I'm not scared of Satan because God protects me from him. Having the bible recited when I sinned was normal."

"You sound traumatised." His lips fought a smirk of duping delight. However, Ellie shook her head again and looked up at the wall. "No. My teachers… some of them were so kind to me. They'd sing and sew my Sunday dresses even if I'd scratched them up playing." After one of the superiors had screeched herself hoarse for childish insolence. Loki didn't respond, only observing. "I assume," Ellie coughed. "You don't get your nickname after a human demon."

"Perhaps it is."

He was mocking her. Ellie rolled her eyes. "It's for your incredibly witty ability to trick people."

"Perhaps."

They lapsed into silence as Ellie became increasingly interested in the stone wall at her feet. She sat up and leaned over. Carved into the stone were symbols and signs. With a frown, she discovered every wall was covered in them. Cryptic runes.

Runes crammed into into any available space, with lines reading upwards, downwards, leftwards and rightwards. Ellie tilted her head and ran her fingers over the smooth grooves. Despite being chiselled by an artist of royal decree, they were as messy as the ancient Norse engravings. Full of desire and need to tell a story."Is this Latin?" she asked, suddenly spotting a familiar word.

Loki's gaze was already following Ellie's hands. As he slowly neared, he meditated his reaction to her curiosity. "Very well observed. When the Scandinavian colonies intertwined with the Christian settlements, many runes were displaced with Roman lexicon. The carving is a direct match of the Rök stone on Midgard."

"I think we have a photo of that on display at the Museum."

"We decided to allow Midgardians the honour of keeping the stone. It is instilled with protective runes."

"What does it mean?"

"The Rök stone was created to speak to any onlooker. It is a folksong for travellers. A prophet of war, or a poem to a lost lover, or a farewell to the dead. The magic of Odin was ground into the stone and it will remain for another millennium."

"What will it say for me?" Ellie asked, enthralled by the historical ties Asgard had with Earth.

Loki stepped closer, his eyes like steel. "What do you want to say?"

Thinking about this for a moment, Ellie considered asking for a romantic poem. Even a song would've been her answer. However, Ellie was beginning to catch onto espial of the royal family. "I want it to tell me about war."

Slightly surprised, Loki raised an eyebrow. He couldn't catch the look on the Midgardian's face, but was certain it was hiding true desire. "War?" he repeated. "It says: _In memory of Vemoor stand these runes. And Varinn coloured them, the father, in memory of his dead son. I say the prophet to young warriors. I say the second of nine generations lost their lives with the Hreidgoths and die later with guilt._"

Bile rose up Ellie's throat. She held a hand to the base of her neck and felt wrought with mourning for the dead soldiers. This was the truth of war.

Loki continued, edging closer as the words dripped off his tongue and crept into Ellie's head. Her ability to absorb truth was startling and he dared say that she was like prey to his empath abilities. "I say thirteenth to the twenty kings buried beneath the young man who would later sacrifice his lineage and was repaid by a wife's sacrifice. To the young men born valiant. They would be crushed by a giant. The young men bore children who…"

"Stop," Ellie begged.

"The inscription is hardly as terrifying as the breath of that seer."

"I can see it in my head. It makes me feel sick."

"You need a stronger stomach. This is your… destiny ultimately."

Ellie glanced at him. "Don't remind me."

"Actually, I found you to inform you that a letter shall arrive at your door tomorrow morning. Lord Freyr of Alfheim is coming to the realm to meet you and speak with my father about the future of the light-elves." Ellie physically paled at the idea. "He shall be in attending with several council members and elvish-folk. They are anxious to meet you," he said, nearly giddy at her worry.

"What am I going to do? I can't meet him, I'm a blubbering idiot with royalty. I mean, you've met me!"

"Sadly."

"I can't just say hi. What do I say? What do I do? Wear—"

"Silence," he snapped. "They will not be here for a number of days. Your handmaiden will be informed by the Queen-Mother of attire, of mannerisms and the itinerary. Please, enough of your babbling."

Ellie slumped back against the window. "My point exactly! Babbling! Look at the size of this city, how many guests are going to turn up? I doubt it's 'several' so don't do me a favour just tell me."

"There are… over two hundred."

"Oh, Lord. Oh, God," she said breathlessly. Holding her head in both hands, she dropped it onto her knees and exhaled heavily. Loki, who was watching in silence, raised an eyebrow again and felt his patience wearing. He pressed a finger to the side of her skull and watched her sit up with a calmer expression.

"Stop doing that," she snapped.

"Your whining boils my brain," he said.

"Your manners hurt mine!"

Loki held a hand out, pulling a testy glare. He flexed his fingers, preparing to make her fall asleep and stay silent for eternity.

"You know, when you're King, I hope you don't bewitch everyone to like you. You already have one enemy," she huffed, crossing her arms and looking at the kingdom. She expected a scoff but was met with silence. When she looked back, Loki was watched the city quietly.

"This will belong to my brother," he said and walked towards Ellie. He pressed a hand to the dark curtain and felt its material. For the first time that evening, he appeared sincere. "What, the curtains will?" Ellie asked. Loki shot her a look of disapproval and dropped his hand from the embroidered cloth. Ellie struggled to hide her childish grin.

"The Kingdom of galaxies and endless stars, of celestial rivers and ethereal cities; all the Aesir touch."

"Does that upset you?"

He shook his head, the most sincere action he'd made all night. "No. He is my brother and he is my King. I don't desire the throne."

"Does Thor?"

Loki's eyes snapped to hers. "He knows he will be King. Of course he wants it."

"Just because you want power doesn't mean you deserve it," she murmured. Loki's eyes burned into hers. She coughed, feeling warm. "Would Thor ever go to Earth and tell them about you all again? You're a memory on my planet." Faint and far, Ellie narrowed her eyes at the tiny speckwhich glistened in the horizon. "It looks like a star. But time in space moves differently. So, what I'm seeing isn't _my _Earth, it's an Earth that could have exploded by the time its light reaches my eyes. Right?" The words tumbled out in a confused jumble. She hoped Loki could understand a slither of it.

"Perhaps. Midgard is an ever-turning realm," he responded. Yes, he did. "It is your species which is fleeting."

"But it's still home."

"Can you really call it home if you don't exist in their time anymore?"

"Well, I… Of course, I can."

"You were alive a split moment. Barely enough time for a jötunn to take a breath."

Ellie looked down. "Enough time to save a city and race of elves."

Loki met her questioning gaze for a single moment. He was poised to shoot a sarcastic reply and undermine her once more.

There was a swish of Loki's cape and he was gone from her side. She felt cold at the loss, enjoying company despite its bitterness. A bird cried nearby, and a laugh erupted from a room just above the window. Ellie turned away.

"Your testament also claims: 'the tongue of the righteous is as choice silver. The heart of the wicked is worth little'." With that, he had disappeared from the room. Ellie's head snapped to the door, a part of her wanting to see through the walls to capture his elitist cackle.

* * *

References:

\- The Rök Stone – A famous rune stone discovered in the wall of a church, dating back to the 9thcentury. The inscriptions has been partially encrypted and remains a mystery.

\- "These will belong…" "What, the curtains?" – from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

* * *

**please review / comment your thoughts – they make my writing improve and your experiences better! x**


	10. Epistemic

Worship of the Gods 

_"I'm reminded of a book my father used to read me," she said. "A bunch of elves and things get into a huge war over a piece of jewellery that everybody wants but nobody can wear." _

Lemony Snicket, Who Could That Be at This Hour?

* * *

Chapter Ten: Epistemic 

Cecelia held the gown up to Ellie. "The Queen Mother presents you with silk made of mistletoe. Finery which will impress his holiness Freyr."

"May I touch it?" she asked gently.

"You will be wearing it. Of course." Ellie touched it and felt sinful for doing so. It was smoother than water, almost delicate enough to make her believe she was running her fingers through a river. Nervouness crept inside of her and she pulled her hand away.

"Does it have sleeves?"

Cecelia shook her head with a smile. She was much more pleasant that evening, nearly giddy with excitement. "The silver will bring out your eyes and hair. You are to wear beads of opal and Midgardian pearls. Frigga ordered for them to be collected two moons ago."

"Why do I need it? Freyr will judge me for the task, not how I look." Ellie hadn't forgotten her impending doom. It lingered like a foul smell. "Why does Frigga waste so much money on me? On extravagances which I don't need?" How much did it cost for her to live here? What was money like on Asgard at all?

"Freyr is the God of prosperity," Cecelia said as she unravelled the attire. It shimmered in iridescent shades, appearing like woven starlight which reflected hues of pink and red. Ellie stared at it and swallowed. "He judges appearance, wealth and personality. He is also an old friend of King Odin who would rather you not turn up in training gear and a sword."

Ellie remained silent as Cecelia pulled her daywear over her head and helped her into the bath. It was steaming hot which made the back of her neck sweaty. She sunk into the water completely.

Cecelia washed Ellie's hair, gently combing the knots and tangles. When she was clean, Cecelia helped her into the bedchamber. She soaked oils and balms into the curls and used a denman brush to spring the coils into a perfection Ellie could never manage. The strands shone in the glistening sunset.

For the most part, Ellie's hair remained down. There were three braids on either side of her head interwoven with precious gems and runes. All of them led into the curls.

Cecelia dabbed herbs onto her wrist and neck and then slid the gown around Ellie's body. It was wispy and light, nearly feeling as if she wore nothing at all. Barely touching her figure at all, it vastly compared to the dresses she used to wear on her nights out in London town. Against Ellie's complexion, the gown seemed almost angelic. Almost.

She ran a hand down her cheek and felt the tired skin. It was dull. Undeniably human.

Cecelia stepped in front of her. "You must remove your bracelet," she said as she applied a balm to Ellie's lips.

"I can't," Ellie replied, holding her wrist up. "I have to keep it on."

"Odin has requested you do not wear it."

"Odin can kiss my ass." Cecelia stopped and shot back with a startled look. Ellie immediately felt terrible. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I'll… What if I wear it somewhere you can't see?"

"Odin will be furious with me."

"No, he won't and if he found out, then, I would take the blame. I'm an insensitive cow. He knows this. Please."

"Well, I… if it would cause you to stop using such language."

With the apostle strung around her ankle, Ellie slid a pair of sandals onto her feet and straightened. Her wrist would've felt naked if not for the golden bangles which jangled when she walked.

Ellie met Cecelia's molten eyes and smiled apologetically. It wasn't returned, she only lowered her gaze respectfully and continued tugging at the gown and braids.

A great clambering of bells rang across Asgard. There was a roar of surging energy which shook the ground beneath Ellie's feet. She inhaled sharply and met Cecelia's startled gaze. The pair hurried to the balcony and stared in disbelief. The sky was illuminated by bright purple and pink for a single moment and then the sound of horses, chanting and cheers arose.

They poured out of the Bifrost and onto the Rainbow Bridge in a ribbon of green and white and polished steel, under two hundred proud bannermen and knights, and followers of Freyr. Half a dozen banners swung the sigil of the Light Elves, emblazoned with the symbol – a ribbon of vines intertwined with the stars.

Ellie leaned over the balcony, focusing on the faces of the beings. They were startlingly beautiful and smooth, gliding across the ground with their long capes floating behind them. Their skin emitted a gentle glow, enticing and full.

"They're beautiful…" Ellie murmured. Cecelia nodded, her gaze flickering to the human.

"Yes. Elves are."

"Can we… Can we get any closer?"

"Their Ruler is here to see _you_, my lady. You shall be as close as your heart's desire if the Völva's prophecy was true."

Gulping, Ellie felt her heart flutter. Her mind whirred with the lessons she had been taught: bow, lower your gaze, royal address, smile, do not speak out of term, eat with poise. Some of the others included: do not mention the wargs, battle, death or heritage after the council meeting. Ellie's hands felt clammy. She didn't want to brush them off on her dress and used a towel.

"Come, my lady," her handmaiden asked.

Cecelia led her out of the chamber and down to the entrance hall where the King had requested Ellie be; ready and waiting for their guests. There was commotion throughout the castle, servants ran past her and guards hurried to and fro. Some of the royal guests chattered amongst themselves as they sped towards the destination of Ellie and Cecelia.

Ellie watched two women, arm in arm, lapse into giggles. She craved a friend in that moment, a close companion who could make her laugh. It had been too long.

Lord Freyr's arrival began at dusk and it would end at dawn, after dancing and drinking and laughter. According to Cecelia. Ellie couldn't understand how so many could be happy when their home was destroyed.

Mighty tapestries hung along each corridor, showing Odin and Freyr battling their enemies, and the light-elves in their natural element. She had never seen so much elegance.

They entered the Great Hall, a golden room lined with tables and an open space in the middle for performers or dancers. At the top of the hall, on a raised step was a table with seats taller and more extravagant. Soldiers beside the archway led Ellie towards the King and Queen.

Odin stood beside Frigga in front of the table, on either side were Loki and Thor. Frigga's apprehensive eyes found Ellie and she remained passive in her facial expressions. Cecelia remained at the door and bowed gracefully before leaving the room.

Guests continued to enter around Ellie, staring or throwing her confused expressions.

Still sweating, Ellie approached the royal family and lowered her head. "Allfather. Queen Mother. Prince Thor and Loki Odinson. Thank you for allowing me the honour of being a royal guest," she recited.

When she lifted her eyes, Frigga bowed in return and Odin nodded his head. There was an air of calmness about them.

"Come," Frigga said. Ellie stepped into the space beside Lord Aelfred.

"You're late," he muttered as Ellie straightened.

She shot him a look. "I couldn't stop staring out of my window."

"Then you shall faint when they are within arm's reach, won't you?"

Ellie scowled. "I'm civilised, not a giggling school girl."

"Hm. If you do pass out, alert me. I need some entertainment."

Odin coughed and Ellie shut her mouth. She held her hands in front of herself as Cecelia instructed.

The tall Great Hall doors opened gracefully, introducing the Vanir in all of their ethereal glory. Ellie held her breath as the sight of a huge man at the head of the column, flanked by two knights in silver armour, snow-white cloaks hanging on their backs.

Taking Ellie by surprise, the huge man vaulted off the back of his horse with a hearty roar and walked towards them with rosy-red cheeks and a toothy smile. He crushed Odin to him in a bone-crunching hug.

"Odin! My oldest and dearest friend!" He looked the King over and laughed. "You are wider than last we saw one another!"

"I believe this time, you are one step ahead of me," Odin replied with as much amusement. Ellie couldn't relax as she watched the arrangement. "Frigga – the stardust of the Nine Realms." He pressed his lips to her hand, and they shared a laugh. "Thor and Loki, the sons of the King. How are you fairing?"

Loki tilted his head politely, a grin on his lips. "Very well, good Freyr. How was the journey?"

"Too long, my boy. If Heimdall is praised by Valhalla with a doppelgänger… send it to me." Loki tensed at the word 'boy' but continued smiling regardless. Thor bowed at Freyr with enthusiastic pride.

"I have been studying your war strategies," he said. "It would be an honour to show you."

"Yes! Yes, of course. For now, let us look to the reason of my visiting." All eyes turned to Ellie. She stared at the ground fearfully. There was a lump in her throat which threatened to choke her. Here she was, a tiny Midgardian, bowing in front of the Vanir leader.

"Your holiness," she choked out.

Freyr bellowed a laugh, his cheeks going redder than ever before. "Yes, yes!" He roared happily to Odin. "Freyr the decider of the sun rising and rising, from whenst doth the rain fall and where does thou faithfulness of Earth appear! Freyr, the God of peace and plenty! Plenty of ale, and feasts, and music! Tell me, little Midgardian, do you see the God of prosperity sat before you?"

Ellie's cheeks went pink and she looked up quickly, nearly cricking her neck. She stared at the God and struggled to find her voice. "I..." she looked at the many guests behind him, trying to find a slither to help, but their stares worsened her embarrassment. Ellie swallowed, "yes. Of course, my Lord. You are the God of Prosperity and…" He raised a thick, white brow and suddenly burst into more laughter.

"Taught her well, haven't you my King?" he roared. He focused back on her. "How long were you given to learn all of this?"

"Not long enough," she blurted, definitely against the better judgement of Frigga and Odin.

Freyr cackled. "I can tell, little Midgardian."

By then, the rest of Freyr's company had dismounted, and grooms were coming forwards to greet Odin. Freyr's fifth-wife, Coydis, glided on foot with her three children. Even as small toddlers, they moved with grace.

Frigga embraced Coydis with a generous smile and shook the hands of the little ones.

No sooner had both families formally greeted one another and the introduction had been completed that Freyr said to Odin, "let us discuss the formal matters of our being here. I wish to witness the truth."

Odin nodded, appreciating Freyr's ability to joke and be a man of honour in the space of a minute. No other words were needed. Coydis attempted to protest. They were all weary and wanted to refresh before the feast. Freyr looked at her and then to Eurelia Adams. She missed the guiding hand of Aelfred, who all but attempted to push her towards Freyr.

Ellie followed Odin and Freyr out of the hall, through a door which existed behind the throne. Entering a small room, Ellie's heart swelled at the atmosphere. She felt breathless and powerful in the same moment. Her gaze fell to the Àlkar stone sat on a small table in the middle of the room.

She pulled the collar of the dress as it threatened to choke her.

"I never thought we'd make it to Asgard, your grace," Freyr grumbled, walking to the other side of the room.

Odin raised his eyebrows. "The journey was not well?"

Freyr shook his head, the laughter stripped from his red cheeks. "Nay," he said, "through bogs and rot we travelled. We were attacked by vicious beasts of Hel."

"Why did you not send word?"

"As soon as the ambush began, it was over. They ripped several guardsmen apart and threatened the rest. They know we have the Àlkar stone, your grace."

"It is as much assumed they have known since Frigga's mishap on Midgard. There were no survivors, they were cleared by my men shortly after the incident."

Freyr rubbed his temple. "Forgive my lie, but I thought it best not to frighten your people in the first moments."

"Were you attacked by wargs?" Ellie asked, envisioning the creatures.

Freyr looked back at her. "Indeed. Cruel bastards. They swarm Alfheim now."

"Alfheim which is where the stone needs to go back to, right?"

There was a pregnant pause and Freyr approached the Àlkar. He reached out and pressed a finger to the object. Its green glow dimmed. "What do you truly know, Ellie Adams?" he asked, his voice distant.

Ellie looked to Odin, asking for silent permission before she blurted a truly wrong thing. With his curt nod, she told Freyr about the night on the bridge. She left no details spared; reliving the malice of the warg, the Àlkar in her hand and how it failed to work again. By the time she finished, Freyr's face was pale and unnerved.

The air became heavy. Freyr shared a dark look with the Allfather. "For once, my King, I prayed your letters were lies for the sake of my entertainment."

Odin said, "yes. Indeed, a sinister form of entertainment, but making light of a situation is what your people do best."

"Usually when we should not, I believe." Freyr turned to Ellie. "Come here. Let me see you."

The ruler of Alfheim took her hand in his two massive ones. He was warm and large, like an overly strong teddy-bear. As he stared down at her, Ellie felt like a squashed bug between two sheets of glass; squashed and breathless. After several seconds, Freyr let go and frowned. "Shame," he murmured.

"She is not of your own?" Odin enquired.

"Nay," he said. "There was no trace of Vanir. A real pity. You could've almost passed as one of mine."

Ellie swallowed. "One of yours?"

"One of my children. It is written that only blood of Vanir can restore the Àlkar if its charging is disrupted."

"Charging?" Ellie repeated. "Can none of your children do this?"

"The power of my people rests inside the Àlkar. Like a living being, it has tastes and desires. It eats what it eats and consumes what it must to survive." Freyr's gaze slid back to the stone. "But… words are just words. They are only stories in the end."

"In the end…" Odin echoed. "It is a human which will save you."

"Yes!" Freyr said, his voice brightening. "A human – the savour of the Vanir. Hardly what you were expecting your life to be, is it, little one?" He clapped his hands together. "Right. Let's see it, then! Have at it, child."

As she had done thrice before, Ellie approached the Àlkar and placed her hand on the stone. It glowed beneath her hand, swamping the room in a curtain of light. Warmth spread up her arms, down her legs and even a breath of energy rippled through her hair. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them, the Vanir was staring at the rock.

"Allfather in Valhalla…" he whispered; his eyes glassy. Odin placed a hand on his friend's arm and also watched the centre of the room. For several moments, Ellie stayed attached to the Àlkar. Something inside of her screamed that Freyr needed to see the glowing light and Odin was warming to the reaction of it. "Oh, my Odin. Look at what has been presented to you. I feel its power growing. In my soul… it lives once more."

"We will return it to your people and restore your realm."

Ellie took her hand away and the room went dim. Immediately, the warmth was gone as if the walls were a breathing body and she had stopped its heart from beating. She bowed her head and took Freyr's trembling lip as a reason for her to leave the rulers alone.

Ellie entered the hall escorted by a suited warrior whose face was hidden by a gold helmet. She thanked him, remembering her manners again. She was sat opposite Coydis, who was whispering to her eldest toddler. Reaching to the far width of the hall were councilmen and numerous Vanir. On her right was a Vanir-woman and to her left was Aelfred (much to her dislike).

The feast was beginning as she settled down. Dozens of servers flooded the hall, holding silver platters piled high with steaming food. Goblets swarmed the tables with the smell of sweet-honey ale. Ellie had never seen so many people in one room, nor so strange and beautiful. The Vanir wore fabric made of gentle silk and enticing perfume which reminded Ellie of honeysuckle. Despite being from a war-torn realm, they moved with benign grace.

The lady next to Ellie sipped her drink.

Coydis wore gold, matching her husband and children. She like company and feasts because they were bountiful affairs made for laughter and happiness. With her child's hand in hers, she tickled him and smiled at his giggles. She was nervous for her lover to sit back down and avoided looking at the human.

Ellie had never felt so lonely as she watched Coydis. Cecelia told her to look pleasant and happy, and she forced a smile onto her face until her jaw ached and her eyes became warm with tears. She looked away, trying to hide them from the guests, knowing it would cause a scene and make her out to be a pathetic human.

A roast boar was placed in front of her, surrounded by thick sausages and herbs just as Odin returned with Freyr. The hall erupted into praise and clapping.

More food was brought out, vegetables, soups and stews which Ellie had never seen before. She recognised one of the dishes from a dinner Cecelia had fetched for her and decided to have that. Even with the gurgling nervousness in her stomach, keeping it full would cushion everything miserable inside.

There was no one to talk to.

"It's so warm and welcoming, isn't it?" the Vanir said next to her. "Truly, it has been so long since we've feasted in one of our own great halls."

"I've heard whispers that the Àlkar has been recently found," another murmured to the she-elf.

"No, it has not!"

"Yes! I swear it. Some have claimed to feel its presence here."

"Well, I can't feel anything."

"If you didn't drink so heavily, you'd be able to."

With a chuckle, the she-elf said: "we are Vanir, not drunken Midgardians. If the Àlkar were here, I would know."

"How do you explain this?" Ellie looked over and caught a glimpse of the elf pick up a piece of rosemary. He frowned and stared at it. Suddenly, it grew an inch and began to shake. The elves gasped loudly and hurried to put the herb away.

"How did you do that?" the she-elf hissed. "Do it again!"

"I can't. I have to wait for my strength to grow back now. I only managed to get a sprig."

"A sprig! It must be here, then. Oh, Valhalla, do you know what this means?"

"Why else would Odin invite us?" her friend said, a grin in his voice.

Heat warmed Ellie's cheeks. When she looked up, she found Coydis' curious gaze on the elves and, suddenly, it was on her. Freyr said something in her ear which took her gaze away.

Ellie started drinking then, and didn't stop until the last drop of honey-ale slipped down her throat. There was a slice of ham on her plate. She reached for her fork and chewed a piece.

Opposite her, Coydis was scolding her children's manners. Their little faces were covered in red sauce. Ellie told herself she was fortunate that no one was watching her manners so intensely.

"Girl," a voice called to her.

Ellie turned to Aelfred, who sat with a goblet in his hand and a frown cutting up his wrinkled face. Up close, he was like an aged gremlin. "Your meeting with my Lord Freyr, tell me what was discussed."

"I really don't think I'm allowed," Ellie said. "It seemed private." Staring at the old man, she felt nervous and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I just had to touch the stone to show Freyr what I could do."

"And? What did he say? Any strategy plans?" Aelfred asked. "He will soon be too drunk to tell me. I am his council, you can trust me."

Ellie hesitated, then nodded. "He got upset when I showed him. I left him with Odin so he could have some privacy."

"Upset for the fate of his people?"

"Upset because, well, he asked me if I could be one of his children at the start. I think it disappointed him," Ellie said, swallowing the rest of her bite. "He said it is written that only blood of the Vanir – royal Vanir – can return the stone."

The councilman's gaze became distant, seeing through Ellie. "Why would he question your heritage?"

"To be thorough, I guess. I mean, he told me I have nothing… non-human in me. I think he was disappointed, but he didn't say how it could be possible. All of his wife's children are so young."

"You're an orphan, aren't you?"

Cold passed through Ellie. She tightened her jaw and didn't say a word.

"Apologies if I hurt your feelings, little Midgardian. I must be thorough when I recall information back to my Lord. I speak to many fools and many with less braincells than a silver fork." He said smugly. "You are an orphan, aren't you?"

"I was raised in a Catholic children's home. Yes," she said gently.

Aelfred's gaze fell to her wrist. "Yes," he said. "And no Catholic incantations on tonight?"

"I have it on. It is out of sight, so I don't offend the guests or Odin."

"Clever girl." Aelfed studied her face. "Are you sure nothing more was said?"

Ellie wasn't in the mood to be prodded for more information. "Not a word."

"You are the daughter of humans? Certainly?"

"Of course I am. Those close to my God do not lie to children."

"How do you know if that too was a lie?"

With a hiss, Ellie snapped a glare at Aelfred. "What do you know about lying to children?"

Aelfred leaned closer and nodded towards Coydis and Freyr. "Those children believe their home is being built by wildflowers and we must wait for the vines to build their beds before we can go back. Am I one to tell them their beds are ravaged by wargs and their bedsheets are blood-soaked in rot?"

With an embarrassment grimace, Ellie watched the little ones. They climbed over each other, fighting over the last carrot stick. So innocently lost in the world. How could evil seek the ruin of children?

Aelfred, pleased with the human's reaction, slunk back into his seat.

Feeling nauseous, Ellie put her fork down and rested her head on the palm of her hand. She knew she was human. Freyr proved it and even she felt nothing when their skin touched. Without Asgardian strength and Elven enchantments, the task ahead would be brutal. There was still much to learn, but she was further than she had been before

If she were to survive this war of knowledge, she would have to rely on herself alone. She would restore the Alfheim stone because she knew how her existence affected it. Odin would not be her God, but she could value his existence as a Ruler. Freyr's children would have a home to grow up in and the Vanir would flourish in their natural beauty once more.


	11. Sidr

Worship of the Gods 

_"I'm reminded of a book my father used to read me," she said. "A bunch of elves and things get into a huge war over a piece of jewellery that everybody wants but nobody can wear." _

Lemony Snicket, Who Could That Be at This Hour?

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Sidr

Ellie leaned against the stone wall with a hefty cup of ale in her hands. After an hour of eating, drinking and mingling with who you were sat next to, there was entertainment. Not exactly light, Ellie would've argued. There had been several poets, a fire-dancer and an elvish lady who sung in notes which only a bat could hear.

Ellie scratched her ear lobe. It was a pleasant evening. To her delight, Thor approached her and began chattering about his family. Though tipsy, he was articulate and leaned into her. Warmth prickled her arms and belly and she took a sip, watching him with dancing eyes. "For your Midgardian brain, I have condensed my heritage for you," Thor said. He wiped a large hand down his beard, removing the spots of ale. Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Yes, as I was saying… the frost-giant Ymir erupted from the melting ice! Oh, but how tired he was. He slept and conceived many children during his slumber."

"How?"

"Obviously with magic," he bristled. "There is more than one was to birth a child when you are a mighty being."

Birth must've been extremely painful for a man.

_"Push, Jane!" Sister Helen urged. Ellie stood behind her superiors and watched the lady give birth. The girls around her gasped, and one fainted. It was Friday afternoon and the Nuns had taken the children to the Royal London Hospital for a lesson in the beauty of life. The act was hardly beautiful. _

_Ellie's mouth dropped open as the sight of a contorting, tearing lady-area. Out slid a slimy heap and the room was filled with crying. She stared at the Sisters; nauseous and confused. They were praying and thanking God despite the blood. _

_Ellie was eight years old. _

She sipped her drink as the memory flashed in less than a second of present time. "Okay, so Ymir was, like, defrosting and gave birth to giants. I'm following you."

Thor nodded. "Then, a cow was conceived. Her name is Audumbla and she became Ymir's wet-nurse. All of his children drank her milk and grew big and strong. Like myself."

"You drank her milk? How old are you?"

"Nay. Nay. I'm only 954."

Ellie's eyebrows felt like they were half-way up her forehead.

"I was raised on the milk of her descendants. But that doesn't mean I am not worthy of the power the first Gods possessed," Thor said. As a prince, Ellie found he lacked the humility of the commoners. What did she really expect? The British Royal family must be similar… not in cow milk sense, but in pretentious nonsense.

"Audrumbla's milk melted the ice and revealed the first of the Gods. Buri! What a great being he was. His first-born was even greater. His name was Bor and with his wife, he created the Aesir."

Ellie looked up at the royal table. Odin leaned towards Freyr, his hand rested on the table and the other around a goblet. She squinted and swore she could see a golden aura rippling around him. "Your father…" she murmured.

"Bor's three sons are Ve, Villi and Odin."

Giant's blood. Thor was a ginormous man, but he was able to pass a human man. She became curious as to what power giant's blood gave him. Even Loki, as lithe as he was, demonstrated the strength of a stronghold. Ellie rested her head in her palm and looked back at Thor.

Ever since the hushed meeting with Odin, Thor and Loki became attentive to the situation involving Ellie. It was unusual they were forbidden to watch council meetings. Irked, Loki had persuaded Thor to speak with Ellie.

"I hear that Catholics believe the first humans were named Adam and Eve." Thor hid a smirk.

Ellie smiled slightly. "Yes. We also believe you must be married to have children." Thor tilted his head slightly. "Marriage is quite a big thing."

"How mundane," he snorted "I gather no goat is slaughtered? No bedding ceremony? Or swords exchanged?"

"We don't need swords in modern England."

Almost insulted, Thor placed a hand on his sigil. "What does one do if his lover is found in bed with another?"

"Death would be preferable," Ellie giggled for the first time that night. She had to admit that some of the Asgardian morals were aspirational. If she ever went home, she would have to take them with her. "I think breaking up is the best way to end it. Not murder."

"Is it murder if they deserve it?"

A loud snort came to Ellie. "Of course, it is! When the sun goes down, does it still exist?"

Thor chuckled at her, rocking on the balls of his feet. "You have funny words, little Midgardian."

Waving her hand, Ellie brushed his words away but held the smile on her face. "Carry on with your story, your highness. Your father was the son of a giantess and how you're 954 years old."

"Oh, yes!" he cried and as soon as the loud words came, his voice dropped to a whisper. Across the hall, Loki watched his brother, attempting to read his lips. The few words he understood were nothing to do with Ellie's task or a secret meeting.

His dark brow rose.

Thor placed another goblet in front of Ellie, urging her to finish the one in her hand. "Odin came to hate the giants. He and his brothers attacked Ymir and drowned him in the sea of Blue Blood. Thousands of giants were slain, and the only giants left was Bergelmir and his wife, who found a boat and sailed for many days. They came across a land which they named the Middle Abode."

"Midgard?" Ellie said.

"Clever, human!" Thor raised a glass to his lips, chugging the last of his drink. For a moment his eyes went hazy with alcohol. He threw the goblet and it clanged off the wall on the other side of the hall, making Ellie jump.

"Atrocious aim, dear brother," a sleek voice called.

Loki's narrow gaze slid over the stain of ale on the wall and to Thor. On his arm was an elderly lady dressed in a grand, ruby-red gown. Jewels beset her curled hair and bracelets.

"Brother!" Thor cried. "Come hither! Speak with me."

With a forgiving smile, the elderly lady unhooked her hand from the prince. Loki's lips turned up humbly and he bowed his head. For a moment, he watched her hobble into the lower-hall and begin a conversation with one of the elvish knights. Ellie couldn't find it in herself to pull her gaze away. She saw a gentleness about him, one which was lost when he spoke to her.

It was Frigga's wish for her children to speak to most guests. Both were kingly men and had to remain humble in their superiority. Loki did it so well. As did Thor, although he did enjoy talking about himself.

When Loki arrived beside his brother, it took Ellie a moment to find her words. They hid in the pit of her stomach and crawled out roughly. Stood next to one another, the princes were a sight to behold. Ellie felt her cheeks tint, but it was hidden by the flickering torch light.

Both brothers had removed the doublets they were wearing. Their silk shirts were crimson with gold detailing and the puff sleeves were held together with gold cufflinks. In their black belts were sheathed ceremonial daggers.

Ellie coughed. "Matching outfits?"

"Sumptuary law requests it, Lady Eurelia," Loki said.

Ellie shifted her weight and took a quick glance at her goblet. "Of course. I remember you telling me."

Thor ridiculed his brother's words. "Oh, it was you Mother asked to teach the Midgardian manners? Thank Valhalla."

"I'm glad I didn't have to spend time with you either," Ellie scoffed and crossed her arms.

"Chastising a prince…" Thor said. "Should have you on the whipping block."

Eyebrows shooting up, the human stuttered a response, "the what?"

There was a sudden booming laugh. Ellie realised it was coming from both brothers. They leaned into each other, Thor with his hand on Loki's shoulder and flashing his teeth proudly. Ellie glanced around her. The princes gained enough attention by just breathing.

"Tis be a joke," Thor assured. "We knew Mother would ask one of us to teach you instead of a servant. I was thankful it was Loki, I just wished to return to bed after the dinner."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "To make it even, I'm sure Mother will come to you next time."

"Not all of us are creatures of the night, brother. That's why she asked you."

"Come now. I'm not a bat."

"You have hair like one."

Loki hooked a slender finger around one of Thor's braids. "At least mine isn't like a dog. What are those golden things called on Midgard?"

Ellie held a hand to her lips. She looked back at Thor, examining his large stature and shimmering hair. It was thick and wavy, startlingly similar to… "a golden retriever?" Loki clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up.

"A retriever?" Thor repeated, affronted and clearly offended. "Thor, son of Odinson retrieves for no mortal."

Loki, wickedly pleased with himself, laughed. "But you retrieve the reaction I aspire."

"You're a trickster, not an entertainer of comedy."

"Lady Eurelia is laughing."

"It is mere second-hand embarrassment for you!"

A sudden banging of drums took the hall by surprise. The three whipped around, their attention drawn to the cleared space where a percussion were set up. It was another poetry performance, but it was the light-elves who were taking control of this piece. Freyr clapped his hands and introduced the speakers as Carriers of Song, being who sung stories and tales of old.

"For several moments, we must thank our host and beloved king: Odin. We are eternally grateful and present to you the history of our existence. Why we are bought together this night and why we must carry our faith for evermore."

"Hear, hear!" the light-elves cried.

Roused with excitement, the guests stood up straighter and craned their necks. Odin and Frigga took their seats and bowed their heads at the elvish lord.

A slender elvish-woman stepped forward, holding a long flute. Ellie, despite the alcohol, managed to translate her words.

"The Song of the Valkyries is a passage of our gruesome history," she said, her voice powerful and strong. Ellie's heart raced loudly and the hair on her arms stood up. "We watched the red dawn rise with its cloud-racked warriors who fought for our freedom. Those battle maidens rode the wild horses into the sky and met our enemies. We sing to the fallen soldiers who gave us chance, who gave us our light."

The choir held their instruments and began to sing: _"widely is flung, warning of slaughter, the weaver's-beam-web is wet with blood. Now grey, the spear before the warriors of Valkyries fill the red-cloud of Randvér's-banesmane."_ Full of passion, the need to show their strength oozed into each note.

Odin took Frigga's hand. Freyr, his wife and children held onto one another. Every Asgardian was silently watching and enthralled by the story which not many survived.

"_We have chanted_," the choir harmonised, "_charms full many about the king's children, we bode them well. We learn as we listen and speak the spells to spearsmen_." The song neared its end. Ellie held a hand to her chest, her mind wandering to the dead soldiers. So many perished saving the light-elves. "_With steeds unsaddled hence to battle with brandished swords_!"

As the song finished, the words floated through the hall. They chimed against the golden walls, rising into the high ceiling and disappearing out of the archways in the roof. Ellie stared up as if the words called to her, inspiring her to rise up from the ground and be free.

"These creatures are enticing, aren't they?" Thor murmured to his brother. His voice was dulcet and playful, hinting towards desire.

Loki drained the last drops in his goblet. It disappeared from his hand and appeared on a servant's tray nearby. "Ravishing… rather like…"

"Forest nymphs."

"I was going to say a nixie," Loki said. It was a truth, universally acknowledged, that many creatures were capable of seduction with just their voice alone. Usually it was feeble-minded beings with little self-respect, but sometimes even the strongest will-power was no match for an ethereal creature. Loki could not deny how drawn he felt to the light-elves.

Thor watched the choir dispersing into the crowd. His brother's gaze slid across the room in a similar manner. "Seek out one of Lord Freyr's guests, brother. You won't regret it."

"Father would be furious," Thor said, but his voice was dripping with playful wonder. "Although…"

The dark prince's eyes slid across the hall. "Some say the Elvish voice can be as soft as silk."

Thor licked his bottom lip. "When they're enticing you into their silk sheets, Loki. Don't tempt me."

"It's just talking."

There was a pregnant pause. Ellie thought about talking to one of male Elves for a moment; drawn to how luxurious one of them could sound when flirting. Thor brushed past her. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, talking doesn't do any harm."

Ellie stepped aside, making room for his large figure. He hurried, rather quickly, down to the lower-tables. She swore there was a spring in his step.

"Do you do that often?" she asked Loki, looking back up at him.

"Do what?"

She took Thor's vacant space, testing the boundaries left between herself and Loki Odinson. His preoccupied expression was dancing with excitement; near delight. "Influence him," she said and he lowered his goblet.

Loki eyed her, not moving much even when he took sip. "I don't influence anybody," he said distantly, "people do what they want to do. My brother wanted to speak to one of our treasured guests. You saw that for yourself."

"I saw you teasing him about sleeping with one of them."

"Bedding a light-elf? How shameful you are tonight."

"But they're like you. They're just a different species, still human-like."

"Human…" he repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper of disbelief. "Human isn't the word for them. They're not like you and they are not Aesir; like us. Besides, Thor would never bed one. Not truly, anyway. They're forbidden creatures in our universe. Like sunlight, you can look but never touch."

"How are they forbidden? Surely it's just sex."

The bluntness of Ellie took Loki by surprise. He had read about her religion, only briefly, but that was enough. Intimacy was sacred and strictly outlawed before marriage. He studied her and straightened slightly, moving an inch away. Loki was an individual who preferred his own space; everyone was always kept at a distance.

"I suppose you and the elves are similar in intimacy," he said. "Never would a human lay with an elf, but you have… a similar mechanism for intimacy. An emotional bond… an undying union."

Ellie felt slightly woozy. A wave washed over her rather gently. The noise in the room sounded like a soft lullaby. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Terrible," he said bluntly. "Completely terrible. If Thor created a bond with one of those elves."

"So, he just needs to not sleep with one of them."

"Not just bedding."

"I thought you said a bond…"

"There are other ways to enjoy a body, Eurelia. Surely, your God has allowed you to see how."

Her cheeks turned pink.

A sharp laugh emitted from Loki, exposing his white teeth. He closed his eyes, throwing his head back. His cackle turned into tutting and their eyes met once again whilst Ellie struggled to stop tripping over her words.

"I mean, child, that intimacy isn't just about bedding. It's the combing of someone's hair, cleaning their wounds, singing, laughing, smiling."

Ellie tried not to grin, feeling ridiculous and indeed childish. "Stop making fun of me."

"It's just so easy, little Midgardian." He coughed and finished his drink quickly. "Besides, Elves choose for life and they die of heartbreak. Thor's smart enough to not tempt fate."

"I think humans can die of heartbreak too. There's this story where I'm from called Romeo and Juliet. One of them dies and the other…"

"Takes their life. William Shakespeare. I'm aware of his tales."

"You are?" she was taken aback. "But you, I mean, I didn't think you knew anything about Earth."

"Are you questioning my highly extensive education?"

"Oh, no. God, no. I meant… I didn't mean to sound rude. When we first met, you seemed so confused and Frigga thought it was still 500 A.D."

The prince shook his head. "No. My mother and father have not visited Earth since before that. Our involvement is little, but my brother and I know much more than our parents. Our tutors were well-read and thorough."

"Can't say the same for your world," Ellie admitted. As a girl, she was taught sewing, the natural arts and Catholicism. Philosophy at university seemed the only path her education would allow her to take. "Think I missed the modules on Aesir."

"You settle in well for a stranger. Despite you shaking like a dog in the rain when the Lord Freyr sought your council."

"He's not the intense one. It's Odin."

Loki silently studied her for a heartbeat. She was looking across the hall again, avoiding his gaze. If he wanted the truth, she had to look at him. He cleared his throat. "Even in the privacy of a secret meeting?"

"Secret meeting?" she repeated, feeling almost childish. "There's just a lot at stake and I'm so… inferior."

Ellie's head bowed further.

"They didn't make you battle a warg, did they?"

"Like my first time was so bad? I mean, we lived, didn't we?" she tried to joke. Loki came an inch closer, hoping for her to tilt her head up. She glanced at his leather shoes and trousers. "It was…"

"What?" Loki itched to order her to straighten up; to tell him everything. He clenched his jaw slightly as he held his breath. Deep magic brewed inside of him. He flexed his fingers slightly and the hall's organised chaos quietened. A bubble of peace and gentleness surrounded Ellie.

She lifted her head and the brains fell across her shoulders. When she looked up at Loki, she was at ease. Warmth spread over her. It had to have been the alcohol. Her voice came quietly, almost like she was spilling a secret. "Freyr thought I could be his grand-daughter. Or some long-lost descendant. He was so hopeful. I swore there were tears in his eyes when it turned out I truly was no-one special at all."

Freyr believed a child could exist outside of his marriage to Coydis. Loki tapped a finger on his goblet, holding his magic still as he thought. It was unheard of that a miracle of such proportion existed in someone who meant nothing to the universe at all. Inside of his magic, Ellie emitted a feeling of despair.

"You shouldn't feel inferior," the prince finally said. "Inferior to whom? The Elves? The Aesir? We co-exist. That is all."

"Yeah," she said. Everything existed, not for a reason, but by chance. It was _her_ chance that brought her here. "You're right."

"Tell no-one else of this. Not even your chambermaid. Walls have ears here and this… you… the stone brings enemies." Loki spoke quickly, dropping his voice. Ellie followed his distracted gaze to Lord Freyr. The beefy man was making his way up from the dance floor and towards them both. His wife was preparing to dance with Thor.

Ellie's heart hammered. "Dear God don't ask me to dance," she muttered and inhaled the entire goblet of wine in her hand. Loki Odinson raised an eyebrow at her and a grin danced on his lips.

"Lady Eurelia," Lord Freyr called. Loki pushed his goblet into Ellie's hand and disappeared from her side. He bowed gracefully, two braids of either side of his head fell with the rest of his raven hair. Freyr nodded to him.

"My Lord," Ellie said. "Uh, that was a beautiful song about the Valkyries."

"Bless you, child. It is always an honour to be in the company of the All-Father."

"Yes," she nodded, sipping the red wine. "An honour. How can I help you?"

"I wanted to see how you were finding your time here. My people and I are welcomed here this eve', but our time is short in these golden walls. I shan't be overshadowing your training or time here and… forgive me if I may but…"

Lord Freyr reached for Ellie and took her hand. His calloused fingers were soft and old. Wrinkles pressed overtime and years of fighting and smoothed his skin. She leaned back slightly, her eyes wide with confusion. As soon as the question in her mind began, it had disappeared.

A beautifully gentle buzz of energy crept up her arm and into her collarbones. It hummed along her throat and up the back of her spine. Into her mind, Freyr's Elvish empathetic powers swam and danced.

Ellie's pupils covered her iris. In the black hole of Freyr's sight she saw lights flutter and realised they were souls. It made her chest ache. Her lips parted.

"Lady Eurelia," called a voice, deep and harsh. Ellie pulled her hand away from Lord Freyr and held it close to her side. Heat prickled her neck. The All-father's thunderous gaze was unnerving at her side, but there was worry in his deep-set eyes. Lord Freyr bowed, his jolly expression now mellow and he returned to the high-table where Frigga held her hand out for him.

Ellie blinked. "My All-Father?"

"Forgive me. My sons have requested you hand, Lady Eurelia. It is one of the final dances of the evening and it is not in the interest of the court to have you in peculiar company but Asgardian royalty." Odin turned, his golden cape swishing.

Ellie was left feeling rather cold, her scalp rather itchy with…

Around her several Elves were staring. Not many noticed the exchange with Lord Freyr, but those who did were confused and in deep thought. Ellie met each other their eyes and felt consumed by their onslaught of inquisition.

"My Lady," another voice called, smooth and elegant. Loki Odinson stood in front of her. "Fear not. It is my brother who shall accompany you in this dance."

The human found her voice. "And that's not meant to give me fear?"

Loki smiled slightly again as Ellie moved past him and onto the grand floor. His dark eyes darted to the Elves who watched Ellie and when he turned, he saw his father watching her as well.

* * *

**References:**

Sidr – custom. Pre-Christian Scandinavians had no word for religion. Another word used is forn sidr (ancient custom) or nýr sidr (new custom).

The Song of the Valkyries [DARRA THARLIOTH] – a Norse poem written about the Battle of Clontarf (1014). It's shortened and used to support the fictional narrative of this story.


	12. A Different Kind of Human

Worship of the Gods

_You learned to run from what you feel,  
and that's why you have nightmares.  
To deny is to invite madness.  
To accept is to control._

Megan Chance, The Spiritualist

* * *

Chapter Twelve: A Different Kind of Human

Ellie shook, clutching the real sword in her hands. She certainly didn't feel like a shadow or a dancing master. A real sword was colder and heavier than anything she'd held before. However, the burn of her muscles told her she was an inch stronger than her first days on Asgard.

Her gaze slid over the weapon. The silver glinted beneath the sun's of Asgard. There were two: Arcas and Sugreeva.

Sugreeva was a volcanic goddess. After her lover caught her affair, he burned so bright and blazed so immenslye that her soul ascended above Midgard and became a celestial, ever-burning star. Arcas was Odin's gift to Frigga on five-hundredth anniversary of their communion.

The most a lover had gifted Ellie was a pack of cigarettes when she tried to quit.

She lowered the sword, dropping the point into the sand. The pommel was plain brass and clunky, hitting her lower arm. It was awkward to handle. She grunted, digging her feet in the sand.

All those weeks of using a wooden sword, she'd never have expected to be trying to swing a steel one. It felt like one of those moments where you think something insane: 'I could stab someone right now' or 'I could throw this glass across the room right now', but rationality returns, and you realise how stupid that would be.

"She's building a sweat just holding it," Aelfred said.

Thor scoffed. "Could you hold a sword when you were a babe?"

"Nay, but _she's_ not a babe."

Ellie pushed a curl back over her ear and heaved the sword up. She panted. Metal was hard to control.

"Enough," Bil said from the side-line.

Thor approached Ellie and took the weapon with ease. He swung it over his shoulder and strolled to the weapon stand. That morning, Ellie was to begin her strength and intensity training. It was the last day of Freyr's visit and God must have been smiling down on Ellie as the Lord of the Light Elves was nowhere to be seen. Only Odin and Frigga sat in stands.

The small training ground was covered in yellow sand. Dummies were spotted throughout. They were cotton covered and packed with hay and gravel to imitate the hardness of a real body. Ellie tugged at her thin tunic, her chest and back already sticky with perspiration.

Bil swaggered towards her, his brilliant moustache flicking off each side of his face.

"You won't be seeing my beauty as often now, girl. Our dancing lessons are far and few."

Ellie straightened, her arms falling limply at her sides. "You're not teaching me how to use a real sword?"

"No," he said and tilted his head. Ellie felt slightly betrayed. "You are a shadow with the light. Now, it is time for you to be a stronghold."

Quite childishly, she said. "I want you to teach me."

Bemused with the human, Thor listened out for her as he pulled several training dummies into the middle of the sandpit. He found Ellie to be a rather funny little thing. Clapping the dust from his hands, he waved Bil's flirty antiques away. "Bil is an agile fellow for agile folk," he shot the dancing master a grin and turned to Ellie. "You are training for war, Midgardian. You'll see your prancing master when you need to."

Ellie scoffed, but watched Bil, with a heavy heart, leave the arena. Her eyes drifted up to the stands, landing on Aelfred as he stood in his obnoxiously long robe and watched her; his arms crossed judgementally. Beside him, sat Odin and Freyr. They were in idle conversation.

Bil training was soothing, slipping her around the kingdom and flowing through the darkness like a street cat.

She couldn't imagine Thor being the same. Unless, it wasn't Thor.

"Are you teaching me now, then?" she asked him.

Thor laughed loudly. "You are joining the ranks of our soldiers. Before you start fluttering about in a panic, they're beginners as well. It's the best place for you."

Thor stood meters from her, whittling two wooden sticks. Ellie only had a moment to realise what he was doing as he threw one of them at her. It flew across a dozen metres of land, nearly hitting Ellie in the face. She caught it with two hands, and they stung slightly. She hissed and clenched each fist.

"I won't start easy, Midgardian," Thor said, taking a slow step sideways. "Time for you to show me what Bil taught you."

Ellie didn't want to fight a prince. He was a member of the royal family and if by some miracle she managed to land a hit, she'd be flogged by the guards or Odin. Ellie ran a hand over the stick, it was smooth and straight; made for practise and pain.

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Thor was ginormous. His muscles bulged out of his tunic sleeves. The purple veins ran down his skin like rivers of power. She bet that even his pinky finger could flick her off the edge of Asgard. At least Bil was near her height and lithe.

The air around Ellie was overcome palpable tension. Her fingers tightened around the stick and she felt herself shrinking back slightly. She adjusted her stance. Inhaled.

Thor charged with a grunt. He swung the stick above his head and bought it down upon her. Ellie screeched slightly as she met it with her own stick. The power of Thor thrust upon her knocked the breath from her lungs. She fell backwards under the weight and used the stick to roll her body out of its way.

"Stop!" she cried.

Ellie shakily crawled onto her hands and knees. She looked back at Thor who was face to face with the Queen Mother. Frigga's face was thunderous.

"She has the strength of fresh snow. You stomp on her straight away and she will melt."

"I was taught this way. I want her to learn fast…"

"I was not finished." There was silence. Ellie turned her head gingerly and looked at Frigga, her cool eyes were already on her. "Allow the snow to build and when you step onto it, the pressure will not cause it to melt, but enforce a strength that can tear through cities. Begin with the Talons before you butcher her." Frigga took Thor's stick from him with ease. There was a respect between mother and son that Ellie had never seen; one built on trust and complete devotion.

"Up you get, child," the Queen said to her. "The all-father has many matters today."

Many matters? The cheek of it. Perhaps a flogging was what Ellie really needed; a good beating would wake her up. It used to as a child. Ellie got to her feet, gripping the stick. She nodded gratefully at Frigga and spread her feet, crushing her thin pumps into the sand until it sent grinding vibrations up her legs.

Ellie's rosary beads were painful against her palm. She tightened her grip and felt her top light quiver. Almost animalistically, she felt the urge to bare her teeth. Holding her Rosary should've blanketed her in peace. There could be peace in war.

A shivered rippled up her spine.

A caw echoed overhead. Ellie snapped her gaze upwards as an enormous raven swooped through the linen canvas ceiling. Its feather rippled in the sunlight; tinted with blue and magic.

"Well…" Thor began, capturing Ellie's attention. She clenched her teeth and pivoted her stick thrice over. Its swoop and swish caught Thor's ears. He blinked distractedly and edged forwards, less aggressive and hardened than before. He watched her for a moment; his eyes wandering across her feet, legs and arms. Ellie lowered her head and countered his gaze through dark eyelashes.

She darted forwards and swung the weapon, bring it down with a cry. It smacked Thor's counter-attack. Vibrations rattled through her limbs as she turned and whipped it against the prince's right ribs. He jolted sideways, missing it narrowly but Ellie turned again and pendulated her attack upwards.

The tip of the stick brushed into the sand, flying up to meet skin. Ellie aimed for Thor's chin, but missed and caught the edge of his nose. His small stumble was purposeful. With a booming laugh, he held his hand up in surrender and used his other to rub the sore skin.

"Feisty, aren't you?" he said. "Are you happy now, Mother?"

"Seeing you in pain doesn't give me pleasure, my son," was all she offered, but remained seated and observant. In the seat beside her, the raven picked at its left wing. It shuffled and bristled before opening its great, black beak. "We must agree to disagree there, Mother," it said.

Ellie's eyes widened. A hand shot to her mouth. Surely not. Hidden in the caw of a bird was a regal and sharp voice. His voice. Thor's slight distraction must've been him catching onto the presence of his brother.

"A rat would suit you better, Loki," he called.

The raven transformed slowly. Its sleek feathers rippled into a dark leather tunic and the clawed feet morphed into lithe legs. Loki's eyes shifted from the orange of a bird to his own Aesir-blue ones. "Don't make me take Eurelia's place and fight you."

Thor tapped his stick against Ellie's. "Like you do so many times before and like you lose so many times before."

Ellie's racing heart was channelling energy through her still. She glanced between the brothers, thinking deeply about whether it was courageous to attack a distracted opponent. It definitely wasn't.

Ellie twisted the stick and gripped it tightly. With a grunt, she swung and knocked Thor's head upwards. He dropped the stick and stumbled sideways. Lunging forwards, she caught his left leg with a hard swoop. He fell to one knee and clutched his jaw.

Ellie swung at his head again. She gasped as Thor caught the stick with a loud slap. Their eyes met for a brief, adrenaline-fuelled moment. His expression was surprisingly excited. A ripple of furiousness exploded in her chest. She couldn't stand being seen as some-sort of toy for his to enjoy.

Releasing a strangled breath, Ellie took the stick with both hands and hammered a kick into his chest. Her entire body zapped, expelling the strength it took to throw the ginormous Thor back. His stumble to the ground created a billow of sand. He coughed, getting back to his knees.

She allowed Thor time to grab his weapon before she leapt at him. A part of her felt feral, like a jungle cat pouncing around the trees with no goal or menacing quality. She just wanted to dig her fingers in Thor and show him she could do so much more.

_Ellie clawed at the girl's hair. She dug her nails into her scalp, pulling and ripping at the skin until her screams were the only thing she could hear. Blood rushed to her ears. She hated her; wanted her to pay for stealing her favourite cotton slippers. _

Ellie's arms shook and she was distracted. Thor moved his stick and shoved Ellie in the ribs with the end. She groaned loudly and fell backwards; falling out of her memory.

Clambering to her feet, the sand slipped off her cotton clothes and leather shoes. A dull ache began at the base of her spine. She rolled her shoulders and brushed a hand over her torso, tensing at a spot beneath her lungs.

"Ow," she hissed at Thor through gritted teeth. "That hurt."

They continued to parry for over half an hour. Wooden clangs echoed through the stadium with the odd clap or insult from Loki. Thor's strength rippled through each hit; making Ellie's biceps sore.

Still, this was him holding back.

Thor surprised Ellie by striking her with a ferocious beating. He swung his stick, knocking her out of her hands completely. She stepped back in shock and watched her weapon fly towards royal crowd. Her gaze snapped back in time to scarcely prepare for Thor's stick swinging at her ankle and knocking her flat on her back.

The air was sucked from her lungs.

Choking for a second, Ellie struggled to relax and could only look up at the linen canopy above her. Everywhere was yellow, a dusty, melancholy yellow. Grainy. It was also grainy. The cackling of sand shifted in her ears and hair. Somewhere closeby someone was laughing.

Ellie catholically cursed. She struggled to her feet and pressed her palms into her eyeballs until they ached. "God," she grumbled as she struggled to her feet. The back of her legs ached furiously, and she knew the bruising would be terrible tomorrow; dark purple and angry.

Ellie stood up, brushing herself off. The back of her legs ached furiously, and she knew the bruising would be terrible tomorrow; dark purple and angry.

"Well…" Odin boomed. "Not as abysmal as I predicted a human to be. However, there is much work left for you."

Frigga pressed a loving hand to his arm. "Thank you for your time, Eurelia."

Ellie tilted her head down in respect. She was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Wetness beaded her forehead.

"We wish you safe passage through your training," Frigga continued.

The All-Father met Ellie's gaze. There was a long pause. "Indeed. You have our gratitude."

* * *

It was much assumed that Ellie would not be seeing the royal family for some time and if by chance she did, it wouldn't be in the Palace or anything remotely close to the inner sanctuary she had been privileged with staying in.

Although, at the time it didn't feel like much of a privilege, as Ellie followed Cecelia into the lower town, she realised how blind she had been.

The ground was hard cobble and wobbly. Ellie grimaced as she twisted her ankle again into one of the cracks. There was a hustling, bustling world of trading stalls, breweries and houses. It was rather like London living; everyone was doing, seeing or selling. Ellie quite liked it. She craned her neck over the moving crowd, watching a beefy man sell a thick slab of meat to another thick-chested man.

"Joaquim's Fish Soup!" a voice cried nearby.

Another voice called: "Fried Sæhrímnir! Straight from Andhrímnir's kitchen!" The waft of something heavenly meaty rained over Ellie as she walked past. A woman was frying up diced meat in a huge, black pan. She shuffled the pan. Flames erupted beneath it and the meat sizzled loudly.

Ellie's lips parted. Saliva filled her mouth. She attempted to drift from Cecelia and was sharply pulled back.

Cecelia held her arm. "Don't listen to anyone who tells you they have godly goods," she hissed. "They're lying. Trust me."

"Why would they lie? Profit?"

"Yes, but usually it's made with Amanita Muscaria. You want more because it makes you feel good."

Ellie swore she heard that dialect before. It definitely wasn't Old Norse. "Latin?" she asked. "That's Latin, isn't it?"

"Who you think gave you Midgardian's so many of your herbs?" Cecelia said, with almost a sneer. Ellie cast the meat seller one more look and continued after her servant.

They went through several alleyways and appeared in a courtyard. In the middle was a roaring firepit and a hog turning on a spit. The woman controlling it must've been seven feet tall.

Ellie swallowed the growing saliva in her mouth and flickered a nervous gaze over the other buildings. Several soldiers brushed down their horses; eight-legged horses. They were laughing together and paid Ellie no attention as she walked through a small wooden door away from the main building.

The training quarters were half-barn, half-living chambers. Hay littered the floor and there was a rich smell of metal and cooking. A clopping echoed outside.

Ellie clutched her training linens to her chest. She had tightly bundled her few belongings into a thin sack as well as a bar of soap and her rosary which hadn't left her wrist. Human clothing no longer meant much to her. Tight jeans; she did not miss. Although, a pair of fluffy slippers wouldn't have been rejected if she were offered them.

"Do you think I'll get to say goodbye to Lord Freyr?" Ellie asked aloud.

Cecelia continued down the corridor, passing closed chamber doors. "Nay. He left this morning with his children and Elvish company. There's rumour Odin sent a thousand guards with them."

"I'm glad. Glad he wasn't there to see me this morning. That would've set me on edge."

"Odin actually insisted Freyr didn't watch you train."

Ellie's eyes snapped to the back of Cecelia's head, a dark shadow casting over her face. "He didn't need to do me the pleasure."

"It sounds like he did."

With a creak, Cecelia opened a heavy oak door. She beckoned Ellie inside.

It was small. Similar to a box room you'd use as a storage cupboard. A single bed was shoved in the corner with hay stuffing the pillow and blanket. The wooden trunk was sufficient for Ellie's clothes and wash-things. With no words left, Ellie kicked a bit of hay out of the door.

Suddenly, four warriors walked down the corridor. They were laughing and speaking loudly in norse-tongue. As they passed Ellie, she took a step back. Asgardians were huge beings with eyes as penetrating as ice through ones' heart. The bald one cast Ellie a dirty look. "Watch it, veslingr," he snapped. His friend cackled in booming tones.

She gulped, leaning out of her door to watch them. They wore linens like her, but they appeared thrice her size. On their wrists glistened their nordic armbands. Were these the warriors she would be fighting? Each word they spoke, echoed like the clang of a drum.

Stumbling back, Ellie exhaled a long, shaky breath.

"You're quiet." Cecelia cracked open the trunk. "Bed not big enough?"

Ellie could've burst into tears. "You think I'm quiet over the bed being small?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance. "You're right. It can't be the decked out, pimped up warriors I'm training with. Ones who've trained for centuries. I did an hour of stretches with Tamra yesterday and I still can't feel my legs."

Cecelia clicked her tongue, looking away from the straw sleeping area. "They haven't trained for centuries," she said. "Not every Asgardian trains from birth."

"What about their armbands?" Ellie asked, worry diluting.

"Armbands are for Asgardian spirit. Being a member of this world is more unifying than war. Asgardians train even when they are old because we must protect the beauty of us from the rest of the universe." Cecelia lifted her flute sleeve, exposing her silver band. It looked like vines looping around one another, holding her wrist in a graceful manner.

The handmaiden rubbed a hand over the bracelet, a smile on her lips. "I was four-hundred-and-two when I received mine."

Ellie struggled to control the urge to touch Cecelia's band. She chewed the inside of her cheek instead and began folding her tunics into the trunk. "It's very beautiful, Cecelia. You must be proud."

"Yes," she murmured. "I'm proud of Odin."

Ellie's gaze flickered to Cecelia's face. She felt guilt turning her stomach. "I'm sorry," Ellie murmured. "What I said to you about… Midgardian Gods and Odin was cruel. It was insensitive. I'm sorry."

Cecelia met her brown eyes and didn't lose her smile. She held her wrist. "I shouldn't have treated you with such disdain. Our cultures are vastly different. I should've been more understanding."

"No. No, I told you that Odin didn't matter to me at all. I'm truly sorry," Ellie insisted, reaching a hand to hold Cecelia's. "You're right. Odin is a great leader."

* * *

Ellie lay in bed, listening to the dull commotion of Asgard's lower town.

It was much louder in the training quarters. People were constantly getting up or settling down. There must have been a hundred rooms down her corridor, and everything seemed to creak.

Heat swelled behind her eyes and when she blinked, a tear slipped out, falling down her cheek. Her university dorm had made noise just like this; full of laughter and shouting. At least then she could've walked into the shared kitchen and joined in.

Ellie covered her mouth. She couldn't cry. Not here. She had to calm down. She pleaded for her throat to relax and her jaw to unclench. Her palm became painful against her front teeth.

All she wanted was the laugh like the warriors, drink like them and be a part of… a family?

Ellie's hands began to shake, tears came faster, and she was suffocating. Morning would come soon and then she could distract herself. The princes would barely recognise her after several weeks of this – the king would show form of emotion beyond distain.

A strangled sound escaped her throat. Ellie turned over quickly, making the bed springs squeal for a moment. Enveloped in embarrassment and a downward spiral of emotional control, she shoved her face into her pillow. She cursed Asgardian hearing.

* * *

**References:**

Sugreeva: son of the sun God Surya.

Arcas: son of Zeus and Antiope.

Sæhrímnir – a boar-type creature killed and eaten by the Aesir Gods.

Andhrímnir – the cook of the gods and killer of the Sæhrímnir.

Amanita Muscaria – a fly agaric mushroom which is POISONOUS. DO NOT EAT.

* * *

Thank you for your comments, favourites and follows. I am honoured and so very grateful.


	13. A Dunga at Heart

Worship of the Gods

_"The more clearly we can focus our attention  
on the wonders and realities of the universe about us,  
the less taste we shall for destruction."_

– Rachel Carson

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: A Dunga at Heart 

According to Aristotle, even good-tempered people have the power to be angry and you can only tell someone is wholly good-tempered by their ability to choose the right moment to be angry.

_Heavenly Father, am I to learn alongside such prideful, vain sinners? _

Ellie knew she was not good-tempered despite her best prayers to be so and it was moments like this when she was fully aware of how futile prayer could be.

_Are these sinners a reflection of myself? Am I, too, consumed by vengeance and hatred?_

Gustav, that was his name; he was one of the bulky warriors who'd stormed past her room. He had seemingly forgotten the entire event and was relaying his entire life story to Ellie. For the last several hundred years, his wealthy father had taken him travelling across the universe and now he had returned it was time for him to become a warrior.

"I warn you, dunga, you'll find no sympathy from me when we begin combat training," he had said, casting a belittling glance around the hall.

No doubt Gustav enjoyed his pet names. Calling Ellie a dunga, or useless fellow, was just about the last straw. She was not impressed by his travels, his money or his family honour. "My name is Eurelia," she had pressed, her voice edging with annoyance. "And you will find none from me."

"No doubt I expected any less from any training warrior," he'd said and met Ellie's gaze, begging for a retort. She'd clenched her fingers around her goblet and that was when her first friendly face came to her rescue.

"Gustav, right?" a voice said nearby. The huge man looked down at the scrawny figure stood beside him.

"Yes? And you are?" They shook hands. The thin one winced slightly which earned a cackle from Gustav. "Lounn, son of Yarsyg."

"The weapon's master. Who knew such a monstrous figure had you as his son? Did he forge you from a strip of breeze?" Gustav's smirk, the rise of his thin lips and quirk of his thick, blond brow was imprinted in Ellie's memories. He'd expressed every part of his personality and now had no use for Ellie or this Lounn.

With her fingernails curled into the bone of her drinking goblet, Ellie fought the desire to throw it remnants over the back of his head.

"At least I wasn't forged from the hide of a pig," Lounn said.

Ellie glanced at him sharply. Then she laughed, anger dissipating into the raw snort of amusement.

"Couldn't let you deal with that bacraut alone. Half the people here are honourably pathetic."

"Thank you for saving me," she said. "I don't know how much more I could take."

They shared a well-humoured grin, clacking their goblets together in a slightly awkward manner.

"Some of them are alright. A lot of family names to remember, but I've got a good idea of who to avoid."

Lounn had picked up a strip of boar and cautiously tore a strip of it off. "I must apologise for using my family name, then."

"Oh, no. I mean the ones who have an egotistical reason to be here. You haven't used your father being a weapons master as an excuse to be an overbearing asshole. Or bacraut, as you put it."

Lounn set his mouth in a grin line. "Definitely not using my father to get where I want to be."

"What do you want to be?" Ellie asked. She didn't care what he did for living, she wanted to know what a scrawny thing like him ached for by becoming a warrior.

Lounn scratched the collar of his tunic. There had been a family crest there once. The lighter shading told Ellie that. "Definitely not a burden."

"More than that?" Ellie said. "Being a burden isn't an achievement."

"Is it for me. I'm unwed and unemployed. I'm the biggest burden an honourable family can have."

There were many similarities between Asgard and medieval Britain. Ellie could only conclude that the reason was the world was inspired the norms of old norse and not its own creativity.

"And…" Lounn said, "I'm scared of dying."

He chewed on the last bit of boar and swallowed. Grease glistened on his fingers as he licked it off.

Ellie motioned to her empty goblet and the pair took a stroll up to the barrel of alcohol beside the fireplace. It probably wasn't the best idea to have such a flammable liquid situated there, but it was warm on Ellie's tongue; curling up inside her belly like a heating pad. She shivered.

"In battle, we can drink as much as we please," a woman boasted to her accomplice as she refilled her cup. "Celebrating a victory drunk is one of the most noble ways to do so."

"Truly?" the man said. He was slender with rich hair oils pushing back his hair. His tunic was well-made with gold embroidery snaking up his arms. "My uncle fought alongside Sweyn Forkbeard and told me they were allowed to rip the head of their enemies off their shoulders and wear it in celebration."

"Oh, Gods, I wouldn't dare. Would you?"

"Being a member of the Allfather's guard; I doubt I would get the chance."

"A royal warrior?" she replied, impressed with his aspirations. Ellie sipped her drink, lulling into the soft tune of lyres and string-instruments.

For the few hours Ellie had to sleep, she wasn't at peace. In her dream, she was in a forest being chased by wargs. Upon bursting into a clearing, she found herself on London Bridge. The concrete under her feet was flat and solid; the smell of petrol consumed her and the clang of Big Ben echoed in her ears. She ran across the bridge as the Thames began to rise. It filled her mouth and ears, dribbling into her lungs until she was floating in a world of water and howling.

The howling transformed into clanging. She had awoke to Major-General Tyr of the kingsguard ordering warriors to the dining hall. A marvellous feast had been cooked, ale was flowing and a band was strumming a Norse tune.

Tyr was fearsomely stout with a red beard and plaits stringing his hair back from his face. Runes were tattooed over his bare arms, nearly hidden by a layer of thick body hair. The northern quip in his accent told Ellie he was a traveller and had lived for many centuries in the high mountains of Asgard. He also did not like large gatherings. He'd disappeared moments after the festivities had begun, throwing out that the rest of their trainers would arrive in the following week.

There must've been a few thousand warriors in the training barracks, but Ellie's group accumulated just over thirty. They were either training for their iron band, honour or war. Ellie wouldn't have minded getting two of those three. Not that she had any choice in the war aspect.

Lounn was in a deep conversation with a woman named Naeva. Ellie listened intently to their iron-clad tales. She had been medically training for years and found she preferred snapping bones instead of fixing them.

The other warriors were intoxicated and singing together. In a mixture of Old Norse and English, Ellie translated their ballad:

_when some thane would harm me in runes  
on a moist tree's root,  
on his head alone shall light the ills  
of the curse that he called upon mine.  
A seventh I know: if I see a hall  
high o'er the bench-mates blazing,  
flame it ne'er so fiercely I still  
can save it,  
— I know how to sing that song._

Ellie was enthralled; fighters, as tough as the leather on their wrists and as bold as their words. All shapes and sizes, skinny and large, it reminded Ellie of dinner times when she was a child.

She used to sit in front of the fire, her face buried in the wooden bowl as she scoffed a meat pie. Sometimes they would have bread pudding or steamed chocolate duff. There was no chocolate on Asgard because there were no cocoa trees. She cursed it.

Gustav laughed, raising his voice to grab everyone's attention. "Rumours tell us there is a Midgardian amongst us," he edged. Ellie felt her cheeks beginning to swell with redness but clenched her teeth and looked around with disgust. Which is what the rest of the room were doing.

"Nay, they are half-born," another man said. Ellie was sure his name was Ajun.

"Who are they the offspring of then?"

"A warrior who served under the Allfather many centuries ago."

"A warrior with no name? Or a coward who chooses not to reveal himself?"

A female leapt to her feet, raising her full goblet. "Or _her_self."

Gustav met with the woman, his demeanour challenging and full of curious dislike. "You are the child of this warrior?"

"Perhaps I am. You may find that it is us women who grind your bones to sand."

"Threaten me again and we'll see if human innards are the same as Aesir." Gustav raised a carving knife from the table, levelling it with the woman's stomach. There wasn't a chance for the air to fill with tension as the woman kicked Gustav in the shin.

The knife clattered to the ground. "I'm not the child you seek, but I am willing to spill your insides to compare with theirs," she hissed. For a moment, nobody spoke. Ellie felt quite ill, quite quickly.

Beside her, Vidar raised his goblet. "Skål!" he cried.

"Skål!" the room returned in unison. Ellie inhaled the remaining drops of her ale and wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve. She forgot about her rosary beads and winced as they pushed into her sensitive skin.

* * *

Loki held up a wax candle about the size of his fist.

"Do you know what will happen to this candle when I let go?"

Ellie searched for an answer which was philosophical and deep. After several moments of looking between Loki and the candle, she settled for the most philosophical answer she could give. "It'll hit the floor."

"I want you to believe it'll hit the floor," he said. With a passive expression, Ellie couldn't figure out how this was going to help her. Of course, she believed it would hit the floor.

"Is this a trick?"

He grinned. "My reputation proceeds me but, no. This isn't a trick."

Loki counted down and let go of the candle. It hit the floor with a resounding thud and rolled several feet. "You weren't watching it," he said and picked up the candle.

"I was!"

"No, you looked at it like it was going to fall regardless. You dismissed its movements."

Ellie nearly snorted. "What? Of course, it was going to fall; it's a candle."

A humourless laugh fell from his lips. He threw the candle in the air and caught it as he walked towards her. "For such a philosopher, you really are narrow-minded. Speaking to you like a servant wasn't on my agenda today but my patience wears thin. So, listen to me.

Watch the candle. Look at its shape, its colour and smoothness. It exists as an entity packed full of potential energy. You believe in God?"

"Always."

"Then believe in this."

"Why? What do I need this magic for?" she asked, peering up at Loki. "Why are you teaching me?"

"Magic isn't truly magic. It's connecting to the energy which exists around us. Once you harness that power, you can bend and manipulate it."

His omniscient words did little to comfort Ellie. Only two beings could use magic and that was himself and Frigga. "Why me?"

A hint of amusement grew in his slender face. He was like a raven waiting for prey to drop dead so he could swoop in a strip it of its flesh. "That's the question, isn't it?" he said. "All we know is you have this same ability to manipulate matter which is why the stone reacted to you. You gave it life. It's just locked away. Like a bird in a cage."

"So, I need to be like you to do this task?"

"Not like me. There is nothing in the universe like me," he slid back icily.

Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek as she left Loki's intense gaze. She saw the candle as an object. The beige exterior had been smoothed by a chandler, but the wick was charcoal-black and wilted. Someone had used it recently; perhaps to read by its light, or to set the mood of a romantic meeting. Its edge was curled over slightly.

Loki counted down.

The candle fell through the air quickly. Ellie frowned, watching it swivel through the air and hit the stone harshly. _God, my heavenly Father, make this candle will fall. Make this candle fall_. This time, a part cracked off.

The prince only nodded at her and picked up the candle. "Again. What will happen if I drop it?"

_God, my heavenly Father, make this candle will fall. Make this candle fall_

* * *

"It will fall," Ellie said for the thirtieth time, an hour later.

Loki held up the candle and asked the question again.

"What will happen if I drop this candle?" The thing was chipped and cracked to exhaustion; bits of candle littered the floor. At one point, it had split in half.

"It will fall down," Ellie said, trying to hide her boredom. She had prayed that God would will the candle to fall, knowing well that it amused Loki. However, God came for her and the candle did, indeed, fall. Although, that could've been gravity acting upon it as well.

The suns were setting as afternoon had rolled around. Light drifted through the window, hiding Loki's smirking face in a shadow. His hair was messier than usual, tousled slightly from the hours of bending down and standing back up. In normal light, Ellie wouldn't be able to tell. She sat in his shadow. "Not this time," he said diligently. "This time it will fall… up."

Ellie smiled widely. "Fall up?" she asked, "fly?"

"Like one of those red balloons in your world," he said. "It'll fly upwards and hit the ceiling, or perhaps it'll find its way to the window and join the stars."

"I can't make it fly, especially like a balloon, my Lord."

"You believed it would fall, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, because it's a heavy object and gravity is pulling it down…" As the words slipped out of her mouth, she watched Loki tilt his head slightly. "… and I forced it to go down with my spiritual powers or whatever."

Loki brandished the candle slightly. "Yes, you did."

He let go of the candle and it hit the floor loudly. The noise irked Ellie. She felt last night's anger creeping into her chest. Loki's apprehensive look shot daggers of disappointment through her.

_Heavenly Father, I…_

"If any of this magic stuff is real, why don't you just do it?" She burst, clambering to her feet. "If this falling and flying shit is real, _you_ do it. _You_ do it and prove I'm _clearly _ the bloody dunga everyone says I am."

The prince's eyes narrowed. In the shadow, they almost glowed before her. She was consumed by the ripples of tension spreading out of him. As he raised a hand, Ellie spotted a gold signet ring glinting in the sunlight. His fingers were long and slender; flexing as if the very air around them was theirs to control.

Then she remembered their night on the bridge. How furious Loki had been with the wargs. She suddenly felt terrible for demanding he show her.

The candle silently rose into the air, appearing as soft and as gentle as a feather would. It turned thrice. Ellie leaned backwards, her mind flashing with images of London Bridge.

Loki splayed his hand, spreading his fingers apart. The candle flew towards the ground and smashed into a thousand pieces. Ellie tripped and fell back into the chair, squeezing her eyes together as the wax shards splattered the room.

"I train you in the magical arts for the sake of my Mother," Loki said. "Do not order me again. Or the next time you pray you will have no hands to use."

As Ellie watched Loki twist his hands, summoning the candle shards into a neat pile beside his feet, she chewed her nail. "Perhaps I really am a dunga," she said. "I should… uh, get back. Combat starts tomorrow and I don't think Lounn would appreciate being alone at dinner."

"Made a friend already?" said Loki. "How about that? Even though you're a Midgardian?"

"Well, I… He doesn't know that I'm human. Told him I was a burden to my parents because I'm unmarried."

Loki raised a sleek eyebrow, slightly expressionless. "Of course, you did. Must say, it's not an uncommon thing for burdens to become warriors."

Ellie's grimace was sour, she swallowed the words which threatened to slip out. "Many apologies for today. I now realise I am the burden of not just my dead parents, but the entire Kingdom and Elvish-kind."

Having left the room in a huff, Ellie stormed through Asgard and fell into bed with a headache; forgetting about Lounn and the sizzling meat-pie on the menu.

* * *

**References:**

_Dunga_ – Old Norse for Useless Fellow

_Bacraut_ – Old Norse for Asshole

_Yarsyg_ – Marvel Comics: he's an Asgardian Weapon's Master and Warrior.

_The War Song_ – a modern inspiration of an old norse song – Runagaldr by Danheim.

* * *

**Reviews: **

_SenSen-Chan_ \- Oh no about the notification! Thats such a shame but I'm so happy you came back to read more! Thank you for commenting, happy reading! x

_deltareads_ \- Yes! Thank you so much for reading and taking time to comment! x

vivenneflwr - Yes she is improving! Slowly but surely. The tv show doesn't air for a while so I'm not sure, I'm enjoying writing my own Asgardian material as well as Loki's but the fanfiction will lead into the movies eventually and perhaps the tv show! x


	14. Guna and Karman

Worship of the Gods

Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius – and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.

Ernst F. Schumacher

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Guna and Karman

Ellie lay on her back on the roof of the barracks she had been staying in for just over a week. She had terrible posture; with one arm behind her head and a leg hooked over the other as she stared up at the sky. Dawn was approaching, and the azure sky was streaked with cerulean. Ellie wandered whether Tamra was awake, meditating in one of the high towers with an incense burner turning it into a hippie-haven. She could picture her waiting for the sun to rise. She would be snapping about her terrible form; the slouching and laziness would just not do.

Ellie wanted to be lazy. She wanted to slouch against the rough wooden roof, consuming the stench of horse, listening to the distant chatter of Asgard. The ache in her thighs and biceps was slightly nauseating and difficult to ignore once she'd gone to bed last night. God, a cigarette would've been really fucking good.

As the thought crossed her mind, a stroke of rust ran up the sky above her. She rose onto her elbows, grimacing slightly as she pushed herself to sit up properly. One of Asgard's suns poked it golden kiss on the horizon. Was it Arcas or Sugreeva? Ellie begged the question and decided it was Sugreeva rising first as, after-all, he held the name of a sun God.

Ellie imagined God ravelling Sugreeva like a ball of string; a light-infused fabric turning over and over until a sphere so bright and beautiful was ready to join the other stars. He held Sugreeva like he was made of glass and pressed him into the sky like a marble into moulding clay.

_Am I like Sugreeva? Pressed into the world like a flower to a book?_

Learning underneath Loki's scrutinising gaze was necessary to developing magic which wasn't too emotional, or overpowering. He was the son of the Queen, one of the most powerful Aesir in existence so he knew the strategies which worked and what didn't. So far, nothing seemed to work.

Ellie tilted her head and extended an arm out. A piece of moss grew on the roof. She attempted to compel her brain to believe it was rise. God's guiding hand would, surely. move the moss just like Sugreeva.

After several moments of holding her breath and going red in the face, Ellie exhaled dramatically and let her arm drop down. "Heavenly Father," she hushed, "help me be like these beings? Let me use your power to do magic. Please?"

The darkness must've been the only thing to hear her broken voice. Her vocals echoed like crushed notes and there were few noises to hide it. Except for the dozing horses and approach of Helga, the head-cook.

She was a ferocious woman who was always wearing an apron stained with red sauce. It was her plumpness that gave her a maternal look and Ellie had, had the gracious opportunity of speaking to her twice about where the food was farmed. The head-cook was more than happy to oblige; she was from the northern mountains of Asgard, just like Tyr.

Ellie pushed herself up, hiding in the shadows, yet able to watch Helga hobble through the courtyard. She was lugging a ginormous cart of vegetables. Asgardian vegetables. There were bright purple round ones and pointy green things, as well as a black frilly one which resembled an overgrown cabbage. Ellie hoped it was stew for dinner that day. Oh, how delicious and hot it would be slipping down her throat after a day of training.

Combat training had been going well, Ellie thought. Tyr never allowed opponents to take it too far, but the odd bruise always came up purple and pulsing with pain. Still, it was nothing a cooling rune couldn't fix.

* * *

**Four Days Later  
Asgardian Training Quarters **

Ellie slid beneath Gustav, sweeping a blow to the back of his leg which crunched and sent him lurching. He caught his footing clumsily and turned to catch Ellie's foot with a grunt. They stared at one another for a heavy moment and then Gustav shoved her leg backwards. It painfully pushed into her hip, twisting her spine uncomfortably.

He grabbed her ankle, yanking it forwards so she jolted again. She cried out.

"Enough!" Tyr had a voice as rough as half-forged blade. "Stop pissing about with feet, Gustav. Get up and get back with the rest."

Ellie's posture was stiff as she wobbled to her feet. She felt as if her innards had been thrown about. Somewhere close-by, a voice was angrily whispering. It was Lounn. She made her way towards him, one hand on her abdomen.

Ellie was famished. She'd missed dinner last night, having been with Loki until the moon came up. Their progress was futile and knew it was because she didn't believe she could make anything float like a flying saucer or one of those Apollo rockets they sent to the moon a few years ago. Seeing that on the box-television beside highly religious nuns was mayhem. Many believed God existed as an omniscient being just above the Earth.

It made her think of him as a puppeteer, using his great hands to push people around the world. If he swirled his forefinger fast enough, a tornado would appear. A grin crept up Ellie's face.

"What, in Valhalla, are you smiling about?" Lounn whispered. "You've just about had your back snapped in half and I might as well shove my head in a snake pit."

Beside Ellie, Lounn wiped the sweat from his forehead. When he lifted his armpit, she thought it was a good thing none of them were wearing linens. "This is ridiculous," he carried on, pulling his ear nervously. "I'd rather fight a brunnmigi. It's ridiculous we have to fight one another. We should be a band of warriors… not this petty… fucking…"

"It's quite petty, yes." Ellie murmured, feeling woozy. Brunnmigi were fox-like creatures who dwelled inside of wells. They were dark orange, like the sun bleeding into dusk. With long spikes sticking out of their back and claws which clacked against solid ground, they were hardly the most beautiful things to look at.

"I wouldn't say that too loud," Ellie shot him a look. "Ajun is still annoyed with you after you threw that shield."

"Should've done it harder, then he'd be dead, and I'd have been hung, drawn and quatered and not have to deal with this. He's watching me. Look."

"Oh, no he's not," Ellie snapped. Ajun was in a deep conversation with Vidar, a baker's son with excellent throwing abilities. They'd discovered that after he slipped in the feast-hall and thrown a goblet at the boar head hung on the wall. Lounn looked down at Ellie, his eyebrows knitted together. "If you're not with me, then I'll get beaten the shit out of all alone."

Snapping his eyes back to the training field, Lounn sighed, "votes of confidence are a strange gift to receive. I'm so used to demoralising rants from my father and mother. What a strange feeling it is to be…"

"Liked?"

"You like me?" he repeated. "I am truly flattered."

There was a loud bang. Ellie snapped her gaze to Tyr, who had thrown at axe at one of the human-shaped dummies in the middle of the arena. His thick eyebrows were creased with anger. Everyone went quiet, knowing Tyr meant the next axe would go between someone's eyeballs or in the back of some chattering fool's head.

Tyr stomped forwards. "Let's see what you've got." He pointed at Lounn and Ajun and dread filled Ellie.

"Odin does not shine down on me today," Lounn murmured, slightly green.

Ellie watched her friend walk forwards slowly. Ajun was rubbing his hands together. The near week without rich hair oils or products had made his hair an unruly mess. He was unkept and shattered, as most of them were. "Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" he asked, despite his tiredness, "go on. Try to hit me, heansa. Hit me like you did with that shield."

Lounn gulped. "Gods, I am sorry, Ajun…"

"Blah, fucking blah," Tyr bellowed. "We're training not on a fucking picnic."

Putting his hands up, Ajun's face flashed with determination. His ability to flicker emotions across his face was a gift Ellie wanted. He was able to emit a menacing vibe with just a glance. Ellie prayed for Lounn to win. She knew that wishing for violence was an inch short of a sin, but her world was different now.

She predicted Lounn had the ability to win with his sheer size. He was quickly building muscle. Perhaps now there were no overbearing parents, he was able to eat as much as he wanted and take out his emotions in a healthier, if not aggressive, way.

The man could knock a mountain out cold.

Ellie held her breath as the two Asgardians edged closer. Lounn tried to punch him, swinging aimlessly so Ajun could duck. Sweat shone on the back o this neck as he dodged another punch, slipping past Lounn like a fish around a riverbend. He kicked Lounn in the back and he stumbled forwards with a grunt.

Lounn caught Ellie's eye. He was bright red with embarrassment. She gave him a small nod, pressing a hand to her chest._Heavenly Father give him strength. _

Lounn straightened and rose in new fury.

At the orphanage, the Revered Mother told the girls about a bear which lived in the woods around the building. It was a monstrous creature which stormed the trees, looking to gobble up any little girls who dared run away. Ellie used to have nightmares about running through the trees with a bear chasing her, before it tore her to shreds.

That nightmare was what Ellie remembered, a bear on its hind legs, paws outstretched with a roar coming from its bloody mouth. Lounn looked as fierce.

He charged at Ajun, grabbed his arm and swung a fist at his jaw. Ellie watched the bone get shoved out of place and the light fade from Ajun's eyes. His eyes looked like a pair of lychee berries, sickly white and pale as they rolled back into his head and took his body with him.

Lounn watched him crumple to the floor, his face disturbed and chuffed at the same time. He realised what he had done and that he had won this small presentation. Tyr cackled menacingly, clapping his hands loudly.

"Son of a weapon's master!" he boomed. "Shouldn't have started you off so harshly Ajun."

Tyr had never allowed them to push it that far. Now, Lounn stood full of upset and confusion. The area fell silent as cold filled Ellie's chest. Her prayer should've spread like heavenly warmth, but instead she felt dreadful; believing she played a part in Ajun's horrendous beating. Lounn's wide eyes became wider as he crouched and tapped Ajun's cheeks with one hand. For a few seconds the warrior didn't move, then he blinked, clearly dazed.

They spoke in Old Norse as a sign of respect. By using the language, they believed the Gods in Valhalla could hear them.

"_Fyrirgef mik_." Lounn apologised quietly. (I'm sorry.)

"_All...t er gott_," is what Ajun tried to say but with his broken jaw, he struggled to string the words together. (It is okay.)

"Alright, enough babying. Real combat is bloodthirsty and cruel. Gustav and Eurelia, you were lucky I finished it when I did. Just couldn't stand you getting all touchy with the feet," Týr hissed. He stared with greedy eyes at Ajun's fallen body, like the sight is a meal and he hasn't eaten in weeks. The curl of his lip was cruel.

"Next up—Malai and Naeva!" shouted Týr. Lounn pulled Ajun's arm across his shoulders and dragged him past Ellie. She shared a sympathetic smile with him, wanting to apologise for praying.

The crack of Naeva's knuckles took her attention away from the two men. She tucked her short black bob behind her ear, using a silver clip to control her jagged haircut. She was a kind-hearted woman from a lord's family. She had been engaged to be married but chose to join the ranks of Asgardian warriors. If her beloved truly loved her, then he could love her from the sitting area of the arena. Naeva wasn't weak, but she's much narrower than Malai. Hopefully, slender height would make the difference when dodging a swing.

Ellie wanted to wish her luck but didn't know what good it would do. It was difficult to let go of human ideas, of hope, and emotional strength. A part of her wanted to hold onto her mundane side to try and reach half the strength an Asgardian had.

She cracked another knuckle, looking slightly nervous as Malai tilted her head left and right. Ellie couldn't blame her for being nervous after seeing Ajun collapse like a rag-doll. Lounn spoke so softly that it shook Ellie. However, a part of her wanted the victory Lounn had. She wanted to stare over Gustav with sweat pouring down her back and wildness in her eyes.

Malai appeared to growl through gritted teeth. A lock of green hair fell across her face, but she didn't brush it away. Vidar clicked his tongue next to Ellie, but she was too focused to tell him to stop or shoot him an annoyed look.

With a smirk, Malai dived towards Naeva with her hands outstretched at her midsection. She catapults into her like a jungle cat, knocking her back and pinning her to the ground. Naeva thrashed under the heavy weight of her opponent but Malai was too much for the Lord's daughter.

Malai punched Naeva's nose, again, and again. She hit her mouth and right eyeball and then her forehead. Without much thought, Ellie wrenched her sleeve up and took ahold of her apostle. She prayed for God to reach down and fill Naeva with strength; for the strength to punch back and hurt Malai.

Yet, nothing responds. Naeva screeched. Dragging an arm free from Malai's grip, she'd whacked Malai in the ear, knocking her sideways with a high-pitched grunt. When she struggled to her feet, she held her face with one hand as if her very eyeball would fall out of her skull. Blood oozed between her fingers, slipping from her nostrils like streams of thick mucus.

"Yield!" Naeva cried. "Fucking yield."

Tyr orders her to go and wash up, calling her a disgraceful mess. Malai struts back into the crowd and another two unlucky victims are called up. Ellie rubbed her thigh, feeling the knots in her muscles. She meets Gustav's gaze and can't help but absorb the bubbling anger he expels.

* * *

That night, Ellie slipped from the training quarters some time after dusk. In the dim streetlights, her figure dashed up to the palace. She kept her face hidden beneath the cotton hood of a brown cloak, not wanting to be followed. As far as her companions were aware, she was the daughter of some rich lord who thought of her as a waste of space and honour.

A note from the Queen-Mother had been left on her pillow and inside was a royal rune only Frigga could make. It had been carved with magic. Ellie clutched it in her hand, presenting it to the guards who allowed her to enter the palace through the gardens. She swept her fingers along the soft petals, berries and plants which made a path up to a small hall. Inside, Frigga waited for her with a table adorned with fruits and puddings.

Ellie chewed on a bite of lemon tart. "I'm glad he and his people reached their homeland safely," she said, motioning to Lord Freyr. "I know many soldiers went with them and the universe must have been blessing them with safe passage."

"I have no doubt they were followed. News of the Alkar stone is travelling which evokes fear." Frigga poured a warm cup of herbal tea, swirling a drop of Aesir essence in. "And you look very well, Eurelia."

"Thank you, my Queen." Knowing that she was building muscle and attending eight hours of training and three hours of Loki's sessions; it must've been doing some good. Physically good, not so much mentally. Ellie was exhausted.

"Give me your hand." Frigga held out an aged palm and freshly done nails. Ellie reached across, sliding her palm across the Queen-Mother. A breath of content left her freshly parted lips. Touch; actual, gentle skin on skin contact. Her weary gaze met Frigga's.

The Queen squeezed slightly, and warmth spread up Ellie's arm. It exploded in her chest like a firework of cooling embers. Ellie repositioned herself in her seat. "I can't do this," she admitted with a heavy expression. "This magic. I can't do it."

"Yes, you can. My son speaks highly of you," Frigga said. Ellie gave a raw snort.

"Please," she said. "He can't stand me. And he _knows_ I don't believe that I can make a candle or a stick or a book fall, let alone fly."

"You can't do it because you don't believe you can do it. What do you think when you imagine the object moving?"

"I think of it falling because of gravity. It falls and hits the floor; louder and louder everytime. I pray to God it'll fly but it doesn't. I pray every time and nothing."

"It's not your God that moves the object, though. It is yourself."

"But he is me. He controls everything I am. He has the power to do this, not me."

Ellie looked down at the table, her eyes filling with tears. Gustav had embarrassed her this morning and now she was embarrassing herself in front of the one woman she never wanted to let down again.

Frigga raised a hand which in turn, compelled an empty goblet to lift into the air. "When I picture the object, I picture myself with each piece of matter. It isn't me, _a God_ and matter. Just myself alone."

There is a moment of contemplation. Ellie had a feeling Frigga knew about her prayers on the roof of her living quarters. If she did, she didn't let it slip.

"I read up on Midgardian philosophy," Frigga suddenly said. "After I knew it meant quite a big deal to you, I did some research and found that there's is a theory named Guna and Karman. It's the theory that the quality of motion is based on its surroundings."

Feeling as if she'd been prodded with a hot poker, Ellie flinched. "Why did you do that?" she asked, flooding her voice accusation. Was the Queen mocking her?

Frigga tilted her head slightly. "You really believe I take no notice of you? Your world has been rebuilt and you believe you are all alone. You're not and this philosophical theory is yours to mould. You are the surroundings of these objects.

If you don't take care of your ability or harness correctly, then the control just won't... well, there won't be any at all."

"So..." Ellie swallowed. "I have to disregard my belief that God controls all things, all motion and movement and put myself in his place? Do you know how hard that is?"

"No, no. No," Frigga said. "He means very much to you. He gives you power, but you need to find power which he didn't give you; power you gave yourself."

Squeezing her eyes together, Ellie tried to imagine herself picking apart atoms and molecules. Frigga's words faded, becoming a distant blur. Perhaps it was time. Time to consider the option that she did not exist because of God, but in spite of him; as a separate entity which co-existed.

"Open your eyes," Frigga said. "Don't get yourself upset now. Look at all of these beautiful cakes I had made for us."

Ellie smiled and rubbed the salty water out of her eye. "I apologise, my Queen. Been a long day."

"I know."

"What? You been stalking me?" she tried to joke put it came out rather like she was embarrassed to be seen as a failure.

Frigga's face transformed, almost mischievously. "Stalking is definitely not a royal act. However, I have been keeping a watchful eye on you. My word, isn't that Gustav a rude fellow?"

Ellie snorted again, nearly choking on her pastry. She held a hand to her mouth, lapsing into giggles with the Queen she had saved many moons ago.

* * *

**References**

\- Guna (quality) and karman (action/motion) (Routledge Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, pp.122). Essentially, it is a theory that individual realities exist in ranges of qualities depending on their surroundings.


	15. Beneath the Idunn Tree

Worship of the Gods

_"What good is the warmth of summer,  
without the cold of winter to us sweetness?"_

John Steinbeck, In Search

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Beneath the Idunn Tree

**Mid-Morning  
The Idunn Sanctuary**

He said, "it's abstract."

Ellie supressed her urge to wretch. "It is foul."

Loki Odinson and Eurelia Adams stood in front of a rotten tree. Its roots were twisted like overgrown toenails. They shone with weeping rot that emitted a stench of the very bowls of a dead planet. Loki had taken her to the very core of the royal gardens and into a maze; or _through_ a maze as he had managed to part the bushes with the twist of his hand.

That part still took her breath away. Well, that and the retched reek of the Idunn Tree. She nervously waited for him to stop grinning like a child who'd won a bag of sweets. "What are we doing, my Lord?" she near begged.

"This is one of the most sacred places in the Kingdom. It's the core of Aesir being."

"What?" she mustered. "The compost? Your insides look like a rotting tree?"

"No. It is an illusion for trespassers." He walked forwards. Ellie fought the urge to yank him back. The Idunn Tree evoked a fear she hadn't felt for some time. For a split second, she was on a dark bridge with a bleeding thigh and no clue what was happening. Loki turned; his back nearly pressed against the trunk of the slimy tree. "What does it make you want to do?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Hide. It makes me think of… those wargs."

"Yes, it is terribly inconvenient to outsiders," Loki said. "You see these?"

The prince pointed to a winged creature gripping onto a piece of rotten fruit. It was beautifully hideous.

"Is it a butterfly?" Ellie asked.

"If you like," he responded and reached a finger out to touch it. "It's dying. When it feeds on the Idunn Tree it spreads its pollen and nutrients. But the tree takes all it can and gives nothing back."

"That's vile."

Loki almost appeared offended. "No, it's not vile, Eurelia. It's nature. This universe is savage. A universe of things dying, or eating each other, all around us."

Ellie nearly stepped away. "There has to be more it than that."

"Beautiful things are fragile."

To understand this world, Ellie had to disregard the ways of her own. "You know, on Earth, we have these dark moths."

"They, too, are formidable creatures. Ugly, but necessary. Unlike butterflies, they thrive in the dark and cold."

"At least they don't eat a poisonous tree."

"No. They feed on something much worse."

The butterfly crept onto Loki's nudging finger. He turned his hand over, challenging the creature to crawl quickly onto a stable surface. With his other hand, he edged it to take flight. Ellie figured she knew the answer to her question the moment the animal spread its wings. "And what do moths feed on?"

"Butterflies, I'm afraid." A quip of contriteness hung in Loki's voice. He then exhaled, having watched the butterfly soar and disappear into the endless sky. "You ready? I'm going to expel the illusion. It might be better for you to close your eyes."

Ellie barely offered him a glance. "I don't want to close my eyes."

"You've just said it frightens you," he said. "You know, I close my eyes to things to I don't want to see."

Ellie looked back up at him, her face wonderous and demanding. "I want to keep them open."

Loki stared at her for several seconds, looking between each of her eyes like there was a secret buried in her words. She held his gaze. This was her life now. It was foul, but it could also be beautiful. Crossing her arms, she waited for him to finish analysing and downloading whatever information he was attempting to gain from her.

The rosary beads hung heavily against her wrist.

With the wave of a hand, Loki stepped forwards and allowed the Idunn to reveal itself.

The rot bubbled like a cooking stew. Each blister popped, splashing it over Ellie's feet. The ground sizzled. It began to groan and cry out like a dying woman. Fear flew up Ellie's spine, but she refused to step back or even look at the prince.

Above her, the branches melted and dangled into her hair. They were fingers of death which scratched her scalp and left wetness dribbling into her braids.

The very trunk of the tree opened like a mouth, spreading its dark lips wide. Inside, faces wailed at them. They begged them to join them in the land of the dead; join them where its warm and fleshy and whole. Loki, in his dark leather tunic, almost appeared to blend with the Idunn's rot. He was unbothered by the whole affair.

If Ellie wasn't so distracted, she would've been surprised that he didn't leap to protect his expensive attire from the foul liquid spewing from the ground.

Loki cast Ellie a perturbed glance, focusing on her clenched jaw and fists. Duping delight swam on his lips, knowing the human was filled with despair. However, she was keeping it under control. So much so, that Loki was losing the humour of it all. He sighed in frustration and exhumed the Idunn Tree of its illusion entirely.

The fingers disappeared from Ellie's hair. Rot didn't splash her tunic or shoes and the smell was gone. Instead, a something fruity and delicious filled her nose. She gasped, a hand shooting to her mouth. The Idunn Tree was not rotten, but beautiful. It was a wholly golden tree with shimmering leaves and golden apples which hung off its branches like tempting treats.

One hung in front of Ellie. She went to reach for it. Her rosary poked its red head out of her sleeve. She retracted her hand as if scolded.

The Idunn Tree's apples were like that of the Garden of Eden. And if this was, by some degree, inspiration for that very place, then she would not be tempted.

If Loki caught sight of her rosary, he said nothing about it. A heavenly voice stole any chance. From behind the trunk, a slender woman appeared. She was bewitching. With coiled hair that reached her feet in trailing spirals, her body rested beneath a silk material that was neither tight nor loose, but like a living entity that existed to ripple around her.

"Oh," she lured, "company. Sweet company all for me."

She slipped across the sprouted grass and the Idunn tree appeared to sense her movements for the branches tilted towards her.

Loki smirked. "Lady Eurelia, may I introduce the Goddess Iduna; guardian of the Idunn Tree."

"My lady," Ellie bowed, her cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment.

"A new royal to feast from my lovely tree?" Iduna peered. "Or, are you showing a plaything around your favourite spot?"

The playful demeanour took Ellie by surprise. Loki's face seemed to light up. Perhaps it was just the golden glow of the fruit. "It's only my favourite spot when you're involved," he said.

"Oh, you tempt my very heart, Odinson," Iduna said. "My lover would not be happy with your flirting."

Loki laughed. "How is he? I have not seen him since the Gudvangen market."

"He is well. He is content."

"How could he not be with you as his wife?" Loki said.

"On the Allfather!" Iduna's laugh sang through the air. She looked at Ellie with her brown eyes; so full and large. "Aren't his words delicate, Eurelia?"

"Only when he wants something," she said.

"Yes. Princes always get what they want. Thor has been pressing me for more of my apples; he believes it'll better prepare him for his role as King."

Loki hissed and crossed his arms. "Foolish lard. I pray you knew better than to listen to his begging."

"Always," Iduna coaxed. A butterfly flew onto her shoulder. It was no longer dark, but azure. "So, what is it you want?"

Loki informed Iduna of Ellie's path into magic. He disregarded the stone, her humanity and religion. It was enough for Iduna. Ellie figured she knew not to question the authority of any royal figure, unless it harmed the nature of her tree.

The goddess retreated towards the tree where she slipped behind the trunk and disappeared. A part of Ellie wanted to follow Iduna to see if she was simply hidden behind Idunn, but there was more than meets the eye on Asgard. If anything, Iduna probably dissipated in the air and lived between the Idunn's branches.

Loki took a seat in front of the tree and Ellie followed him. They sat with their legs crossed. The space between them was littered with wildflowers and long grass. With no wind, or any real weather except for sunlight, Ellie neither felt hot or cold. The Idunn tree appeared to exist in its very own bubble; except from Asgard's climate.

A branch dropped between Loki and Ellie. On it, hung a golden apple. Loki plucked it and turned it in his hands.

"These apples give the Aesir youth," Loki began. "It's how we live so long. Every year, there is a festival where Iduna's apples are consumed and celebrated. Beings like yourself cannot eat them or you will perish."

"What if you didn't eat them?" Ellie wanted to know how something as fragile as a fruit practically controlled the lifecycle of an Asgardian.

"It would take many years, but eventually we would age and die."

"Does that scare you? Knowing that your entire life relies upon Iduna?"

"My life relies on no-one." Loki clutched the apple tightly, his intense gaze boring into Ellie. "I am not afraid of death; I greet it as a friend."

"I…" she said. "Why are you showing me this?"

It took a while for Loki to return to the calm and collected man he was with Iduna. He was obviously annoyed by Thor's egoism with the Idunn apples and the cheek of Ellie for asking about death. Slowly, but surely, he relaxed into his story.

Ellie clasped her hands and watched Loki as he described his childhood. Frigga taught Loki, sensing a deep-rooted power within him from a young age. She had brought Loki to the Idunn Tree when he was a boy, using the flowers as practising pieces for his magic. He studied for hundreds of years, harnessing the old Norse and then being strong enough to perform incantations without a word leaving his lips.

It was common Asgardian knowledge that he was well-mastered in the arts of magic; but many saw it as an art of trickery. There was passion in his voice when he spoke of scaring his brother and the servants with snakes. Once he created an illusion of himself climbing the outside of the Northern Tower, which stressed Odin out so much he succumbed to his Odin-sleep.

After a long time, Ellie and Loki sat in silence. That was when Ellie noticed the noise of the Iduna Tree. It moved gently, making soft chiming noises. A harmonious calm spread over her.

Ellie peered at Loki, who was flexing his hands; making the grass curl. "How long did it take you?"

"The language? Days," Loki's face was thoughtful. "It's easy to copy a word. The true test is what your soul can bare when it feels the power of old Norse. Have you ever sensed there was something itching away inside of you? Like a creature in a cage?"

Ellie looked down and her eyes found the Rosary peeking out of her sleeve. "I don't know."

"Well, it's either yes or no, isn't it?"

"I've always felt God inside of me. It's like warmth through my body when I need him." Deep red crept onto her cheeks, fearing Loki's Asgardian judgement. "I mean, it's my choice. Everyone has free will. Why do you want to know?"

"I wanted to express my opinion on free will," Loki enquired, linking his arms behind him, "but I decided against it." Ellie looked up, a wry grin curling her lips.

"Was that a joke, your Highness?"

"Was it? How can we say I spoke at all?"

Ellie snorted, a raw, good-humoured laugh which erupted from the back of her throat. "Why are you getting all philosophical with me? I know you're just trying to… I don't know, coax me into doing magic which we both know I can't do."

Loki placed the apple down. It made an indent in the grass, spreading the wildflowers into a crown around it.

"I was always told a philosopher is a person who knows less and less about more, until they know nothing about anything."

Loki tilted his head, debating his answer. "At least you're aware your little Midgardian brain is as useful as mercury in a Dwarven forge."

Ellie would've liked to see a Dwarven forge. She had been read a story about dwarves once by one of the nuns. It was a tale set in a distant land where all sorts of creatures roamed mountains, fields and shires. The dwarves in that story were small and mighty; in search of their homeland and the slaying of a giant beast. But there had been an outsider who joined the dwarves. He was a timid, quiet thing who never wanted adventure. She couldn't quite remember his name or the story he became a part of.

Ellie hesitantly picked up the apple. Apart from its colour, it felt exactly like a Midgardian apple. She lifted it to her nose. It smelt like a Midgardian apple as well. Ignoring the temptation to take a bite, she held it before her and met Loki's intense stare. "God won't help me make this fly. I know this now."

The prince took the fruit from her and let it rest on his flat palm. Beneath the golden hue, Ellie stared at the creases in his skin. Magic rested in the very essence of Loki Odinson.

Raising her own hand, she traced the indentations of her hand. There were three lines and in them she held that same magic. With a calculated exhale, she straightened her back, so her core was aligned with the ground beneath. Tamra must've known all along that Ellie would end up learning magic. That's why she was pushing her to stretch, to breathe, to be at one with the world using her body.

Ellie visualised magic. It had to have a form in order for her to use it. She conjured up a vision of wispy, blue water in her chest. Thrice is swirled around her organs and between her ribs, sending a shiver up her spine. Upon command, the water wound along her collarbones and into her arm. It surpassed her rosary, rippling slightly under its constraint on her skin.

When the power reached her hand, it collided with the insides of her fingers; washing up like a wave against a wall. She clenched her teeth, staring at the apple. This power was hers. It was hers, not God's. Hers to control. A sudden, screaming prayer flew out of her soul: _Heavenly Father, forgive me_.

She flexed her fingers, disregarding the presence of her rosary all together and pushed the energy out.

The apple shot out of Loki's palm, ricocheting into his chest. He was knocked on his back with a grunt. Ellie gasped and shot to her knees.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry!" she said, reaching for him. "I am so, so sorry, your highness."

"Don't," he quickly said, edging away. Ellie looked over him in despair, fearing he hated her completely. The once she'd thrown a book a him, he'd managed to catch it but now, she'd wounded him.

"Gods, I am so sorry," she said again, unsure of whether to burst into tears of joy or self-hatred. "I used magic!" She spluttered another breath as her eyes began to water. "Me! I used magic!"

Loki scoffed, shuffling back into a sitting position. "And broken my ribcage in the process."

"Oh, did I? Did I really? I have a healing rune from the barracks. I mean, I was going to use it next time Gustav beats me in combat, but you should, uh, use it."

"No, not really you fool," he said, staring at her with… amusement?

Ellie snorted and slapped her hands over her face. "You're not angry. You're not angry because I used magic."

"Only for that reason," he said. "If you had failed, then you would be hanging from the gallows."

"I didn't think that I could do it," she guffawed. Her mind swam with a thousand thoughts, all of them racing through her like streaks of adrenaline. Pushing a hand through her hair, she nearly tangled her fingers in her braids. "I have to do it again. Now. Wait. Wait, I have…" The colour drained from her face. She peered up at the sky for a moment, calculating the time from the position of the sun as Tamra had taught her. "_Shit_," she finally hissed. "I have to be back at the barracks for training. I have to go. Thank you, your highness. Thank you!"

Loki, with a hand to his chest, watched Ellie gather her wits and run out of the royal gardens. Her braided hair billowing behind her. There was a spring in her step which he had never spotted before.

He followed the movement of breeze which shouldn't have existed in the Idunn's sanctuary. Out of the wind, Frigga manifested before him. A smile lit up her aged face as she leaned down to help her son to his feet.

* * *

**Later That Evening  
The Feast Hall**

Tapping her foot, Ellie sat opposite her opponent that evening. Her belly was full of stew and crusty bread. Helga was weaving between the tables, a ladle in one hand and a cast-iron cauldron in the other. It was nearing the end of the feast so most of the trainees were loitering in small groups; arm-wrestling, gossiping or gambling.

Ajun could be cruel, but he was also here for the same reason everyone else was which was a similarity good enough for a board game. "You shouldn't have made your stakes so high," Ellie said. "That drauger rune will be mine." She moved one of her soldiers into a space on the Hnefatafl board.

The game had been difficult to master at first. Ellie pretended to be unacquainted with such pleasantries; having been forced to do labour by her family. However, she found the game similar to chess in its movements.

Ajun moved one of his opposing pieces, swiping a soldier from Ellie's team. She scowled at him from across the wooden table.

"You haven't presented your stakes, Ellie," he cooed. "How about that beaded bracelet you always wear."

"Beaded…" She held her wrist to her chest, faking a laugh. "It was a gift from my family."

"The family which forced you to work every moment of your existence. It surely can't be so dear to your heart?"

"It is. How about, I give you a protection rune," she pulled a braid from her ponytail and unwound the bead which Cecelia had placed in their so many weeks ago. "Carved by royal whittlers."

"Royalty? I don't believe you. What would a peasant like you be doing with such an object?"

"I saved the prince's life," she said and Ajun snorted. "I did! He was, uh, walking past the house and tripped. I caught him before he broke his perfect, little face. It was a reward."

"I'll have to ask that question for myself."

"As if you will ever have the pleasure of meeting the sons of the Allfather," Lounn guffawed. "You barely had the pleasure of being with your parents since they disliked you so."

Naeva was carving a wooden horse from a bit of firewood. "The warriors three visit the training barracks sometimes, you know."

Lounn glanced at her. "Yeah, but they're not royalty."

"Might s'well be," Ajun said. "To be on the frontline of Thor Odinson is a god-sent gift. I'd kill to be where they are."

"Try killing the enemy then," Ellie said. "Those healing runes can only do so much, and I can feel my ribs aching still."

"Suck it up, little musa," he said coolly, swiping another knight from Ellie's team. "War isn't like play-fighting."

Ellie scoffed. "Play-fighting? You bit a piece of Malai's knuckle off."

"I need to get where I need to be. Just like you."

With a frown, Ellie looked down at the board. She wished it was Loki opposite her, just like how they were that morning in the Idunn Sanctuary. Iduna could appear from behind the tree and flaunt her alluring beauty and temptuous words. It was peculiar how no other Asgardian mentioned the existence of the Idunn and perhaps that was because it was so hidden that even the consumers of it knew nothing. Ellie hadn't promised Loki to not to say a word, but she found she respected him too much to dare mention anything in connection.

Ellie leaned on her elbow and subtly tried to manoeuvre her fingers in the same way Loki did. She imagined her magic as water, swirling and swishing like a river within her. Once more, it ran through her cartilage and bone and hit the end of her hands. The King wobbled on the board.

"Take your pick already," Ajun pushed.

Ellie flinched, dropping her arm onto the table. She clenched her teeth and moved her King, taking out one of Ajun's pieces.

His next move involved him swiping her King from the board and winning her rune-bead.

Ellie spent the night picking at her hair and playing with whatever objects she had in her room. Not that she had many, only her tunics, soap, a towel and a wooden carving Naeva made a few nights ago.

Stretching an arm out, Ellie struggled to conjure up any power.

"Come on," she hissed. "Come on."

Sweat beaded her forehead.

* * *

**References**

_Drauger_ – the undead in Norse mythology.

_Hnefatafl_ – A Viking board game which was very popular.


	16. Stumbling Back

Worship of the Gods

_Beware that, when fighting monsters,  
you yourself do not become a monster...  
for when you gaze long into the abyss.  
The abyss gazes also into you_

_Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Stumbling Back

The arena rang to clang of metal.

Ellie stumbled backward, clumsily defending herself from Ajun. She was swamped in thick leather and chainmail, sweat trickled down her chest. Ajun pressed forwards, raising his sword and sweeping a downblow which knocked Ellie's sword into her face. Her nose crunched against the helmet, sending her staggering onto one knee.

She watched Ajun raise his sword again and managed to catch it with her own. It sent a shockwave through her arm. With a strangled grunt, she shoved him back and got to her feet in a less-than-delicate clamber. When she attempted to sideswing her weapon, Ajun slid his blade against it and slammed his elbow into her chest. She skidded in the sand.

"You're testing my patience, Eurelia! If you're beaten again, I'll have you hung, drawn and quartered in the Allfather's privy!" Tyr bellowed behind her.

Ellie rolled her head against her shoulders, earning a rattle of metal. Wetness dribbled down her lips. It wasn't cold like sweat; it was warm like blood. She gritted her teeth.

Ajun stood straight. "Am I making you look bad?" he said.

"So, I'll look more like you then?" Ellie spat.

Ajun stepped close, wavering slightly with exhaustion. He posed, holding his weapon tightly. Ellie watched his feet and the moment he swung, she sent him an undercut and caught the bottom of his helmet with her sword. A strangled cry left her lips.

There was a sudden cry of pain echoing out of Ajun's helmet. The thought of him losing made Ellie's heart race with joy. She wanted to win, to hurt him and prove her worth. How far she had come, or perhaps, fallen from where she once was.

He wrenched his helmet off, panting heavily. Spit flew from his mouth.

Taking a step back, she waited for Ajun to clumsily get back to his feet. When he did, he was wobbling more than before. She had already fought Naeva and lost; with that disadvantage, Ellie hoped Ajun would be sweet and let her win. Except, he wasn't, he wanted to be on the King's guard whatever the consequences.

Ellie reaffirmed her stance. There was no time to dance like Bil taught her or be a shadow. A memory of the apple from the Idunn Tree came to her. She lifted her fingers slightly and stared at the sword in Ajun's hand. Swimming with anger, she imagined magic leaching out of her and around his weapon. It tangled around his fingers, strangling his grip. The sword shook slightly in his hand.

Ajun glanced down and Ellie took the chance to lurch forwards and land a solid punch in his face. Her fingers ripped through skin, cartilage and bone. He screamed in her face, startling her.

The magic evaporated, filling her with cold. The feeling made her stumble back. She placed a hand to her chest as if her heart had been ripped out. A heave swept up her throat. Everything suddenly felt like it was becoming real. The last few weeks had been a blur and not once had the idea of violence stopped her from engaging in such acts. She unclipped her gauntlet and stared at her shaking hand. It was red with sweat.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, God. God, what am I doing? What am I doing?"

In the medieval attire, she was a hunching, ugly mess.

Ajun charged with a war-cry. He slammed into Ellie's chest, knocking her on her back. They were a grinding, smashing, scraping tangle of armour and swords. In a dazed confusion, Ellie dropped her sword. She struggled beneath him and looked around wildly for her weapon. It was just above her head, just out of reach. She strained her arm out, her sweaty fingers flailing in the sand. Attempting to gather her magic, she strained and began to sob. No magic swirled in her chest.

_God, help me! God, help me!_

Ajun dropped his sword and disappeared from her chest. He stamped down on her arm. A gut-wrenching scream echoed out of Ellie's lips. She stared up at Ajun, his figure shadowed by the sun above him. It hung like a halo around his head.

He grabbed the lapels of her steel collar and shook her like a rag doll.

"Stop!" she cried. "Yield!"

Ellie's head rattled on her shoulders. Her vision spotted with different colours. In the confusion, she dropped her sword and fought to push her helmet off, needing to breathe. She was suffocating beneath Ajun. The armour was too heavy, too hot and too much. With a cry, she shoved his face. Her nails caught his chin, scratching out a deep crevice that filled with blood. She could only see his dark eyes between the slits in his scowl.

Without warning, he slammed his face down onto hers. She was sure her teeth had become loose as the taste of metal swam in her mouth. She blubbered another plea.

"How many times have I told you?" Tyr yelled from far away. "Stop trying to kill each other!"

Ajun shoved Ellie again, knocking her into the sand so it spat up around her. She closed her eyes and in the dark, Ajun was a phantom figure beating the breath from her.

Tyr's heavy-footed approach could not be heard by Ellie. He stomped towards them and pushed Ajun as if he weighed nothing. He fell onto his backside, breathing heavily and realising what he had done. Tyr followed Ajun's wide eyes to the limp form of Ellie in sand-blanket speckled with blood.

* * *

**The Next Day **

**Asgardian Training Quarters**

Ellie was awake when morning came, on top of the living quarters once more. Even lying still, her body ached. Perhaps someone had shoved a pipe down her throat and blown her up with teddy-bear stuffing over night. Her arm was in a handmade sling, ripped from a shred of her tunic. Lounn pressed her to see the healers, but she would not. She was embarrassed. How had her magic not worked? How had she allowed herself to be so vulnerable beneath an opponent.

It had been a struggle getting to the roof. She was always there because the sun gave her warmth that her straw bed could not. The soft sounds of horses clopped nearby. Helga grunted into the courtyard with her cart, pulling the vegetable passed the guards.

Yet, there was no sun that morning. The chill made the roof-tiles cold, giving Ellie thighs goose-bumps.

The bell sang loudly, earning a clutter of disgruntled neighs.

She fought to open her right eye which resulted in her clumsily falling down the side of the barracks, tumbling onto a cart of hay that made her wince. She held her ribs, thankful that she had nothing to do that morning except yawn her way down to the Gala Inn for a steaming bowl of honeyed oats.

Lounn soon joined her, along with the other novices. They caught up pretty quickly, considering Ellie was hobbling down the cobblestone path. Twice, she leaned against a barrel or wall to steady herself. It felt like someone was twisting her insides.

"The læknir rune not work?" Gustav guffawed, strolling past. "Your eye is the size of a plum. She really is a little peasant musa, is she not?"

Ellie tripped over her own foot in an attempt to step towards him. He burst into cackles and followed several other trainees down to the tavern.

Tyr and the other trainers had been called to a preparation meeting for a tournament. Days like that were rare and the pub seemed like a perfect way to celebrate the morning. It wasn't just the upheaval of plans, but the weather. It was crisp, cool and grey.

Lounn helped Ellie the rest of the way, holding her elbow with grace. He whipped a gold cloth from his pocket with the healing rune embroidered into it. Obviously, it had been some fancy gift from his Mother which he'd rather give away to forget his homelife.

Naeva skipped onwards, complaining about a rumbling stomach.

Inside the Gala Inn, Ellie sat against the window, watching a stream beside the pub where Asgardians liked to dabble their feet. Her vision was slightly blurred, but there wasn't much to see. No one was there that morning. She fought a yawn and picked at the a fraying bit of cotton on her sling, trying to recall what she had prayed for on the roof. _Strength, I prayed for strength_, she recalled. _Because I have to return the Alkar stone_.

She remembered yesterday's training, the grit of sand in her mouth and up her nose. Vidar stunk of sweat as he wrestled on top of her. She had conceded him, unable to match his strength or stamina. That sharp, anger-fuelled hatred for Vidar struck her during her prayer. _Heavenly Father,_ she thought powerfully_, make me grow stronger. _

Although, everyone had fought sloppily; perhaps sensing the moody weather of the next day. However, that was no excuse to give in to the struggles of being a human against an Asgardian-born weapon.

"Gods," Naeva complained.

Ellie looked at her. "What happened to your face?" she said stupidly, her lips felt numb and far too large. Only now did she notice her acquaintance was also nursing an injury.

Naeva lowered the healing, rune-embroidered material and laughed. "Look who's talking. Shall I call the Eir?"

"Shall I call you a new jaw?"

"Hate to say it but, Gustav was right. You have a plum growing out of your head."

"You shouldn't point out my battle wounds, ledrhals." Ellie grinned through her aching lips.

Lounn wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "We were all sloppy yesterday. Sloppy sword work, footing and fucking… just fucking sloppy, weren't we?"

Ellie shared a look with Naeva. "Who's knotted your braids?"

He lifted his shirt to reveal a very angry, purple bruise across his stomach. Naeva scoffed, which earned a wince. "Astrid was only able to do that because she called you a pretty boy and you couldn't stop blushing for long enough to focus."

"My life flashed before my eyes," he said. "Do you know what it's like to be told since marital age that no one wants you and you're a dishonourable fool? Thought that we could elope, and my father would finally be proud."

"Would you really want Astrid as your beloved?"

Lounn didn't have to think. "No. She likes women so obviously marrying me would make her miserable. Add her to the growing list of people I've disappointed."

Ellie offered Lounn his gold rune back, but he waved her off. Family were obviously a touchy subject. "If you don't plan on imprinting a rune on her, then you should definitely just swing a sword at her and be done with it."

"Sword-work is not my forte. I'm gonna wrench off my gauntlets and lunge at her," he laughed. Naeva shook her head, rubbing the cloth across her face as she struggled to smile. Lounn sipped his warm mead. "What aren't we allowed to use again? It's hand-combat again this afternoon, I'm sure. Don't want to be disqualified for eye gouging Gustav again. That bastard."

Ellie had been forced to concede twice by Tyr for using a fishhook technique on Gustav and a girl named Bodil. It was difficult to control survivalist panic when she knew she was losing. Instead of focusing on the win, she began ripping and pulling at whatever she could get her hands on. Ultimately, she ended up getting scolded by Tyr.

"The fish-hook," she said with a smirk.

Naeva offered the nutcracker choke, which was were you orient your knuckles into the adam's apple. "Definitely not the fish-hook either. You nearly ripped Gustav's cheek out, El."

"I wish I had. He never shuts his mouth."

"If you had've, then he definitely wouldn't have been able to."

Ellie chewed her oats, knowing Naeva was right, but craving revenge on someone for all of her failures. After so many weeks, her techniques weren't gaining her favours with Tyr or her physical health. She was no match against these ginormous beasts with war bred into their bodies.

And sometimes the Asgardians failed; couldn't keep up or fight properly. They would fall asleep in exhaustion in the dining hall only to be woken by Helga banging an iron pan. Ellie knew the Norse words for weakling and half-troll and dribbler, considering she'd been called them all by Tyr or her opponents. There were also a dozen Norse enchantments you could whisper into your fists before a fight that was meant to strengthen you, but none of them had worked for Ellie.

The only incantation she found that gave her actual peace was the morning prayer. Even Lounn's cloth wasn't working quick enough. The agony of being punched in an already bruised eye was unimaginable.

Every few days, she would get caught sliding off the roof by Lounn or Naeva. She kept her answer sharp, locking up the stories which could destroy her entire destiny. They thought she missed home; the made-up home where she had unhappy parents and no marital prospects. The real home. Well. She tried not to think about it at all. It was better that way.

Instead, she called them _brusi's, _and told them to their nosiness made them _kerlings_, which made them snort with laughter.

"What's got you knotted up?" Naeva poked.

Ellie cast her a glance. She wanted to tell her that she needed to be a shadow, that she had to dance around them all. The words couldn't quite reach her lips. "Nothing. Just sore," she said, her voice so quiet and lost in the building ruckus of the tavern.

* * *

**References**

_ledrhals_ \- leather-neck

_musa_ – mouse

_læknir rune_ – healing rune


	17. Our Gods are Your Gods

Worship of the Gods

_"Healing is impossible in loneliness;  
it is the opposite of loneliness.  
Conviviality is healing.  
To be healed we must come with  
all the other creatures to the feast of Creation."_

Wendell Berry

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Our Gods Are Your Gods

**The Next Day  
The Shrine of Gods**

Ellie knew the sun was a star. She had just never felt it before. The breath-taking difference between a fact and a feeling gave made her heart beat faster.

She had been called to meet Loki Odinson in the Shrine of Gods. It was a circular platform en-route to the palace where the faces of deceased Gods were carved out of gold and surrounded an inner circle. The guards allowed her passage into the shrine, shooting her wounded arm a glance as she entered. Loki stood facing the sun with his hands behind his back.

When she neared, she saw his eyes were closed. He was unimpressed with her that morning. Ellie feared he'd mystically conjure one of the gold heads to topple on her and squash her.

"Being called to attend to your wounds was not on my itinerary this day," he said.

Lowering her over-used rune, Ellie mustered a half-hearted shrug. "Being injured wasn't on mine either."

Wind whistled around them, carrying notes of songbirds and the clanging of Asgardian life. Blusters of leaves dove and fluttered past, carried on the gentle breeze. She smelt warm bread wafting from the royal kitchens and was at peace for the first time in several days. Her gaze slid across the faces of the gods and goddesses. Many looked old, with deep grooves for wrinkles around their mouths. All of their eyes were closed. They too, were at peace.

The sun, only just beginning to rise, painting red over Asgard. In streaks of orange, Loki and Ellie were engulfed in the hues. For once, Loki's steel eyes were soft with sunlight.

"Do it again," Ellie said, pleasure oozing from her. She looked at Loki as he stood, watching the Kingdom waking up. "Please. The pain is going."

A knowing grin crept onto his lips. Snatching up the praise, Loki was silently glad he had been chosen to show Ellie magic. "Once more. I'm not a fairground ride."

"You wish," she snorted. Closing her eyes quickly, she crossed her legs and settled. As the waiting began, it was over. Loki lowered himself to the ground and pressed a finger to Ellie's temple. Electricity pulsed from his skin, travelling through her brain in a millisecond. With a gasp, Ellie was free once more.

She could feel the sun. Its heat didn't burn, it licked her body and wrapped her in sweet starlight. Energy swarmed her and she liked to imagine it was God. Never before had she experienced enlightenment and it was becoming a drug.

In her mind, she stretched her left hand out and envisioned the light streaks of the sun. Like snakes, they curled around her limbs. They slithered up her arms and onto her face, peppering their tongues over Ellie's bruises. The swollen skin felt soothed and began to realign back to normality.

Warmth swam around her neck. Ajun's attack had made her spin spasm with pangs every few minutes. Those lightning bolts stopped, transforming her posture so she could sit straight.

"The runes don't work so well on me," she said. "Because I'm human."

Loki nodded. "Yes. You should be thankful that my Mother's little mice are following your every move."

The Queen Mother's spies were hard to spot. Ellie figured she was being watched several days ago when she saw a sheath cleaner poking her head out of the stable window to watch Ellie enter the feast hall. The same woman was also a barmaid in the Gala Inn.

With a frown, Ellie hummed a response. She tried to focus on her newly healed arm and body. It was refreshing to have one which didn't ache. For some reason, magic always left a sweet taste in her mouth; like a Parma Violet.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes. "Thank you for healing me, my Lord. I'm eternally grateful."

"Wait," Loki said.

"For what? Can I go back now?"

The prince's eyes became slits. She took that as another order to be quiet. After several moments of looking around the empty shrine, she coughed. "Nothing's happening."

"Your observation skills are quite remarkable."

Following his icy gaze across the horizon, Ellie found the sun had nearly risen completely. Its rim kissed the bottom of Asgard's edge. The entire city was basked in heavenly red so even the water was aflame with its glow.

The second sun lifted from its position, pushing its hellish colour back and into a beautiful yellow. A frightening creak of grinding stone echoed around them. Ellie gasped, flinching as the stone faces rose slowly. They took the breath from Ellie's lungs with them. Like magnificent beasts wrapped in gracefulness, they turned mid-air and continued upwards. It made her realise how small she was.

"God," she whispered, her voice dripping in awe. "What is this place?"

Loki tilted his head. "This shrine is meant to give sanctuary to the Aesir."

"I feel like nobody," she said. "I'm nothing at all compared to these."

"Well, everyone has their own interpretations. Even if it's highly depressing."

Ellie's eyes sparkled with statues' reflections. "Do they give you sanctuary, my Lord?"

"They are my family. I find sanctuary in knowing I am their legacy."

"There was a girl at the orphanage who claimed to be the great-granddaughter of William Shakespeare," Ellie smirked, remembering that scrawny girl with yellow hair. "She said she had his legacy."

"William Shakespeare," Loki tested the name on his tongue. "His name is scattered throughout Midgardian history. A masterful playwright and poet, was he not?"

"You know him?"

Shooting her an amused look. "Would you believe me if I told you yes?"

Ellie tried to imagine a Norse god walking through the mud-soaked streets of Elizabethan England. "No," she said.

It must've been his ancestors, or the sun which induced Loki's amusing reply. A childish smirk appeared on his lips and he almost leaned towards Ellie. "Thou art a flesh-monger, a fool and a coward," he said.

Ellie threw her head back and snorted. She wracked her brain for memories of Shakespearean dramas. "Uh, thou are as loathsome as a toad."

"You scullion."

"Rampallian!" she said.

"I'd beat thee, but I would infect my hands."

Scoffing, Ellie couldn't hold back her bite. "You really are a pretentious royal, aren't you?"

"Prentenousness emerges when there is a hint of doubt. Unlike you," he posed. "I have no hope of being superior because I already am."

"You have to be joking," she said. "I would never hope to be better than… anyone. I'm…"

"What do you hope to be, then?"

Having spent many weeks contemplating her place in Asgard, she knew the answer better than anybody. She was different. "Independent. Strong. Someone who doesn't slot into the universe like a puzzle piece."

"No, no." Loki said. "I meant how did you want to sell your labour?"

The prince was grinning, which peculiarly delighted Ellie. "Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, bull's-pizzle, you stock-fish!"

"Please, Midgardian," he said. "Thy mother resembles a stewed prune."

"At least one of us knows what she looked like," Ellie coughed her last laugh. She hummed into her hand, watching the prince's reaction. He lapsed into deep thought, putting a guard around his emotions. Once again, he became reserved and said nothing more.

"We have statues like this, as well," she finally said. "Only they're not made of gold. Is it real gold?"

Loki blinked quickly. He emerged from his own head and approached the face of an old woman. Her hair was carved in thin ringlets. She looked fierce and did not smile. "It's not gold like on Earth. It is a material from the planet Titan."

"The statues on Earth are made of marble or stone. I mean the ones of our God's son."

"Stone to portray the son of a God?" Loki scoffed, shooting her a half-hearted glance of discontent.

Ellie clenched her teeth. Her fingers allowed the rosary to slip between them. "Clearly our son offers his people humility."

"Or pitiful respect."

"You all mock me for believing in my God," Ellie quivered, clutching her Rosary tighter. "All of you."

"All of us?" Loki repeated, almost harshly. She turned and looked up at him, daring him to push it further. "You are quick to categorise Asgardians as sharing one brain."

"How could I not? How many times have I been prodded for believing in a false God? Odin believes it. Cecelia finds my mind undeniably mundane and short-sighted."

The prince exhaled heavily. He then reached out and took hold of her sleeve, pulling her down the stairway and towards the palace. Ellie allowed him to pull her, slightly perplexed and fearful of what he had planned. His annoyance was fuelled with hatred, but impatience.

"Where are we going?" she asked hurriedly. "Loki, tell me!"

"Be quiet," he hissed. The guards spared them little attention. Perhaps Loki had enchanted them to mind their business. Could he really be that frivolous with magic? _Yes_, Ellie knew decidedly.

Together, they rounded a corner and entered the healing chamber. The tall ceiling, windows and fluttering strumkarls. Several patients shot them annoyed looks. They were munching on their lunch and clearly did not want to be disturbed. On the other side of the room, Ingrid stood listening to a baby's heartbeat.

Ellie swallowed the bile creeping up her throat. Her memories were so close, yet so far away in her mind. Like a distant dream, they swam in a murky fog.

The prince's hand pulled her to a bedside where a dying man lay. Around him, several healers were chanting lowly. A soft glow fluttered over him. "Your God is not just Midgardian," Loki said, his voice a low murmur. "The spiritual beliefs of all life in the universe are intertwined."

"I…"

"Can you really say you have not noticed how similar your little world is?" he whispered. Ellie looked across at him, feeling very warm.

The healers became much louder, drawing her attention back.

_"Here came stalking in an inspiden creature,"  
Had his haman in his hand, Said that you were his steed.  
Jeg legger deg hans teage på halsen.  
De begnyte å flytte fra land.  
Så snart de kom for landet.  
Then his limbs began to cool,  
then came stalking in the animal's sister.  
Then she made an end and swore oaths  
That never this should do harm to the sick one  
Nor to the one who might get this charm  
Eller hvem visste hvordan å synge denne sjarmen.  
Amen, vær så snill."_

Ellie tilted her head, trying to understand the disjointed Norse and Norwegian strung together. It was a healing chant; she could tell that much from the swinging censers around the patient's bed. Loki looked at her, narrowing his eyes in perplexity. The Midgardian was constantly trying to figure out everything she could not hope to understand.

After a beating moment, Ellie looked up at Loki. "Amen,vær så snill. Amen, so be it?" she questioned. "At the end they said Amen."

Loki nodded stiffly.

"Who do you pray to?"

It took a while for the prince to drag his gaze away from the healers. He appeared to reminisce in Ellie's desire for knowledge. Only he could offer it to her in that moment and he divulged greatly in her passion. "The word amen is used to agree or approve something which has been said," he explained. "It is a word passed through worlds from Norse, to Shiväisith, to Hebrew which is ultimately where you have gathered the word."

Ellie blinked quickly, gathering her thoughts as she realised the prince knew more of her planet than he let on. First it was Shakespeare, now it was a religion that had been influenced by thousands of stories and tales. "So," she said. "When Jesus declared _Amen, I say to you_… He didn't mean it as a call for prayer?"

"No," the prince replied. "Sometimes the word means truly, devotedly or desirably."

For decades, she had believed it was a send-off for her prayer. It was like signing a letter to God. Now, she realised it was simply a word which had not manifested for her religion but for all creatures and beings. It was just another word in the universe.

"Perhaps our Gods are your Gods."

Opening her lips to respond, the words could only wither and die on her tongue as the Allfather walked through the archway. She stepped away from Loki and held her hands behind her back respectfully.

"Pray tell me you were not picking up the human from a half-dead state," Odin said, obviously holding little hope for Ellie's progress.

With a light laugh, Loki shook his head. "No, Father. We were merely taking a tour of the halls. She misses the company of decent living quarters."

"I… never said they weren't decent," she interjected. "They're very much so. I rest very well."

Shooting her a look, Loki fought the urge to strangle Ellie. She closed her mouth and offered the Allfather an awkward smile.

"In that case," he mustered. "Leave us," Odin said. "I'm sure you have running to attend."

Ellie bowed her head, glancing to Loki once more before leaving the shrine. She made her way to the training barracks and slipped into the crowd of warriors which had gathered in the courtyard. She found herself stood beside Lounn. He was bending up and down, getting ready for the sprint.

Ellie pulled her arm across her torso, enjoying her healed state. She rolled her head on her shoulders and touched her toes with a bit of a stretch. Asgardians adored running. It was one of their favourite past-times. People sprinted to the shops, jogged around the square and pranced in the taverns. She wasn't surprised their trainers were commanding them all to take a three-hour run around the city.

* * *

**References**

_The Shrine of Gods – _The Disney movie 'Atlantis'.


	18. The Tournament of Titans

Worship of the Gods

_The only thing that I've learned  
__is that life is about suffering.  
There's no escape from it.  
That's the truth.  
What's important is how we deal with suffering,  
how we deal with the truth._

– Vikings, Lagertha

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: The Tournament of Titans

Ellie sat alone in her chambers, nursing her sore eye socket. The bruising was still a deep purple, colouring her undereye like a slice of plum. She winced as she held a rune to it. Clearly, she was in need of Loki's magic again, but it appeared she was now left to her own devices. Her armourl-ess combat training had gone well until Gustav whomped her in the face.

Wincing, she stared at the candle on the top of her drawers. Behind it was a filthy mirror and inside of that was a woman she barely recognised. She dared not lower the rune; scared of the sight which lay behind it. With an angry exhale, Ellie yanked a curl from her braid and let it fall over the side of her face.

It was midday. No one was in the training barracks as they were all heading towards the Northern Arena for Odin's announcement. Most had left after their morning fight, but Ellie had been left needing a break from their Asgardian insults and strength.

Grunting, she held her arm out and focused on the candle. Her memories swam back to her conversation with Lounn that morning.

_"Dear God, help me," Ellie had huffed, collapsing against a cart of hay. Lounn then took a seat beside her, breathing heavily. _

She twisted her fingers, clenching her teeth.

_"Odin, right?" he'd said. _

_"What?"_

Ellie felt pathetic. There was a hunt in the barracks for the human and she was letting herself slip. Soon she'd fight her last fight and be thrown off the edge of the world by Gustav. The candle twitched.

Deep anger pooled within her. It flooded her chest, flowing through the right and left atrium of her heart and riding on her blood cells. Energy pushed out of Ellie's fingernails, hitting the candle so it toppled back.

_"It's not sacrilege to say his name." Lounn was slightly confused, wondering whether Ellie was inspired by off-world dialect. "Don't you say Odin?" _

Nearly wheezing, Ellie controlled the candle, so it rose. It shook heavily, reflecting in the mirror. The tightened skin on her knuckles turned ghost-white.

_Ellie's forehead shone with sweat. She winced, lifting a hand to poke her inflamed brow. "Oh, I uh, it's just a habit." _

_He laughed lightly and fell back in the hay. "Everyone's different I suppose." _

Ellie cried out. She threw the candle at the wall, smashing it into a dozen pieces. Splinters of wax shot back over her bed and floor. With her heart racing and sweat pouring down her back, she stared at the mirror.

"Heavenly Father, I can do it," she said, "but does that give me the right?"

* * *

Finding Lounn in the ruckus of the arena was a task in itself. It was very much similar to a Flavian Amphitheatre with its tall walls, carved windows and seats. However, he was easy to spot waving his arms manically from the other side with a bright orange Asgardian banner swishing in the air.

On the way to her seat, she took a cone of dried fruit. A servant was flogging street food to the guests and she was more than happy to oblige for the safe edible option. Not that she wasn't intrigued by roast eel or snake innards, she just wasn't feeling up to much _more_ adventure that day.

"Did they have no roast eel?" Lounn asked as she sat down.

"Uh, no," she said. "Didn't see any."

Naeva huffed. "That's a shame."

"Too popular I suppose," Ellie settled, feeling calmer than before, but wondering whether the Queen's little mice had been lurking.

Arguably, Ellie felt like a real warrior as she sat in the middle of a dozen other trainees. Everyone around her wore the same leather tunics, boots and trousers. They stood out in the arena of citizens and mundanely dressed guests. Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek, looking around.

Above the trainees, were the real warriors. They wore steel armour and gauntlets adorned with rune-jewels. Ajun was watching them enviously until a servant offering fish gills passed by and took his attention.

Suddenly, Odin's voice bellowed across the arena. "Hear me, heroes of the realm," he beckoned, his voice vibrated the seat beneath Ellie. Silence swept over the crowds, from the able-bodied fighters, to the pot-makers and servants. "The Tournament of Titans will soon begin. Each event will be rewarded with a suit of golden armour to whomever is the Champion of Asgard!" "Let the news issue forth… I hereby summon every warrior, from every land."

King Odin commanded three torch-bearers to light the flame atop the Mount of Eternity. Ellie remembered Frigga telling her that when her quest began, she would have to the light the very same fire.

From below, Thor and the Warriors Three rode out on magnificent horses. They swung heavy weapons: an axe, sword and bow. The crowd clapped in response. Behind the four, three emerged in nothing but velvet linens around their waists.

"Begin!" Odin cried.

As Ellie watched the three men carrying their torches, she envisioned herself running up; panting beneath the hot sun and sandals crunching against the crumbling path.

Ellie couldn't pull her gaze away from the royals, unlike Lounn, who was watching the bearers begin their ascent. "Why three?" she asked off-handedly.

Lounn pulled his eyes away. "They've been chosen. Imagine Odin choosing you personally. My family's honour would be through the roof." Above, Loki was speaking into Thor's ear as a small grin emerged, inside of it was a number of emotions Ellie couldn't grasp.

"Truly we are honoured above all living beings!" one of the torch-bearers cried, pulling Ellie's attention back.

"Ay," another said, "for noble Odin has chosen us to be his harbingers!"

The last, despite trailing behind, was hurrying to catch up. His voice came loudest, and Ellie watched Odin lift his chin up slightly. "Mighty is Odin!" the torch-bearer shouted. "Eternal shall be his name!"

Praise fuelled the Norse gods. They thrived on it like a shadow in the dark, consuming and indulging until… Ellie couldn't think of when it would ever be enough. Even Loki drank in the attention. She looked up at him again and found his gaze dancing with arrogance. How many years had the universe begged at his feet?

"The beacon is lit!" one of the torch-bearers called. An eruption of clapping and shouting began from the crowds around her. "Its glow shall be seen in every corner of the cosmos! We proclaim forever the glory that is Asgard!" A fireball of red shot out of the Mount, rising into the air and disintegrating into pebbles of ash. There was a surge of heat and then the beacon rippled with a steady fire. Black smoke emerged from the top of the flames, pummelling into the air.

Odin gestured to the crowds below, holding out his sword. "It is done!" he heralded. "Now we shall wait for the coming of the mightiest warriors!"

Thor and the Warriors Three rode around the stadium, earning a tidal wave of cheer from the crowd. The blond prince roared with laughter, waving at the onlookers as if they were there for him alone. He was barking words across the crowd.

Ellie frowned, leaning forwards and trying to listen. Unlike Odin, Thor had no speaker or sound exemplifier. She squinted, focusing on the shining blur of the prince.

"The winner shall be awarded golden armour," Thor said.

Fandral laughed and Ellie's gaze snapped to him. "They shall look nearly as magnificent as me!" Beside the lithe warrior, Volstagg cackled. "At least it will fit these warriors, unlike some," he said, motioning to Hogun.

The crowd laughed alongside them. Ellie nearly joined in, only her mind was troubled by her ability to hear so much. Thor and the Warriors Three were over three-hundred feet away from her.

"Why are they talking so loudly?" she asked, not enjoying the crystalized tinge noise had to her.

Lounn shot her a look. "Have you been deaf this whole time? They're addressing the crowd normally." He continued to clap and let out a whistle.

Ellie's hand ghosted her ear lobe. She snapped her fingers and winced as the sound bounced down her ear and knocked her ear drum. She nervously touched the back of her ear and pressed into the skin in case there was an infection brewing within the canal. There was no swelling.

"Warriors in training," Thor said. Ellie strained her ears. "Follow your captains to the Bifrost to trek the Bog of Draugrs. You must return with the champions intact or face the wrath of Odin."

As the audience erupted around them, Ellie looked over her accomplices. They were clapping happily and patting one another on the back. Lounn cheered and smacked Ellie on the back. She jolted forwards and stared up at him.

"That's us," he said. "Our turn to show them what we're made of."

"What we're… what?" Ellie stuttered, following the trainees as they stormed out of their seats and out of the arena. The audience cheered for them, hitting their backs and arms with joy. An elderly lady cheered down Ellie's ear, making her jump back in surprise.

The warriors burst out of the arena in a huddle of excitement. Ellie flittered after Lounn and Naeva, following them into the barracks. In a line, they followed one another into the storage room.

Others had already wrenched open the cupboards of armour and weaponry. Gustav threw an axe in the air, roaring with delight. Slightly uncertain, Ellie strapped her breastplate and gauntlets on. They were all wearing leather, presumably for flexibility.

"Protecting the champions!" Naeva gushed. "Fighting monsters. _Real_ monsters. Not those stuffed dummies they've got us practically shagging."

Ellie held her breath, finally understanding. With her teeth clenched, she grabbed a jian which was a double-edge straight sword. It was light and easy to push through the air. Although, she had never had to slice through a fleshed-out body. Would it be like a knife through butter? Or through grit?

"Bone, mush, bone," Gustav liked to say.

"Let's head out, you fairy-fucks!" Tyr shouted from the doorway. Ellie whipped round and was surprised when she met his eye. He had his arms crossed and it was difficult to look away from his intimidating stare.

She attempted to stomp past, but his rough hand shot out. Ellie let him pull her aside. She lost sight of Lounn and Naeva and felt singled out for a reason which was meant to be a secret.

"What?" she snapped.

Tyr blinked. "You know damn well. Stay here. You are not to leave the barracks."

"Why am I not allowed to protect the champions?" Ellie clutched her weapon. "I've done all my training."

"That may be so, but some damn Draugrs ends up taking your life then I will be joining you shortly with kind regards from the Allfather." Tyr stormed past her, taking the breath from her lungs and the rest of the warriors.

She ran to the window, watching the warriors march out of the barracks and into the kingdom. The cheers from the stadium were loud enough to hear from where she stood.

A thousand thoughts raced through her head. What were her friends going to face? What if they were hurt or killed? Her protected status was immoral and unfair. But the Draugrs were terrifying creatures. They could try to rip, murder or maim her. That was terrifying. And the most frightening part was that she wanted it.

Ellie shot the barracks a glance. When the coast was clear, she crawled out of the window and hurried down the pathway she took for her magic sessions. It didn't take long for her to catch up as the novices were trailing behind the superior fighters. She slid behind Lounn.

Her racing heart did not still as she looked around for Tyr or a captain who knew her name. She guessed Tyr had known all along who she was. It was admirable that he was as much of an arse to her as he was to the other warriors. Although, telling her to stay in Asgard was clearly smart. She was going to save the Light-Elves, but the draugr bog called to her; called to test her strength.

"Hey," she whispered in Lounn's ear.

"Thought I'd lost you in the crowd," he muttered back.

She laughed. "Easily done. Everyone is acting like they've been given the gift of their lives."

"Don't you feel like it is?" he said. "A chance to prove your worth. To prove your loyalty."

To Ellie's relief, Heimdall's wandering eye did not land on her. She slipped through the Bifrost feeling giddy until her boots landed in a foot of mud. With a thudding heartbeat, she stared around the dense forest they were in. It was foggy. The smell of burning filled her nose as well as rotting flesh.

Once the nuns taught them a lesson about the Great Depression by presenting them with a plate of gone-off spam. They forced the children to eat it in hopes it would teach them to be thankful. Ellie was not thankful for the hours she spent with her head in the toilet.

With a grimace, Ellie stumbled after her group. Lounn nearly knocked Naeva over as he slid out of the portal. Thankfully, Ellie was out of the way. She felt as if she'd rather have a stake through her heart than begin her first otherworld journey covered in filth. They walked for over an hour, descending into the hellish world of a daugr bog. Several gas-bubbles popped around them. And there were distant screams, like someone was having their throat sliced open.

Disappointment held a place in Ellie as she observed this new place. It was as beautiful as maggots inside a carcass. With her newfound hearing, Ellie focused on the dark horizon. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, listening to the whistle of the bog. She could not tell how far the land went on, only that it was full of living beings. Something hissed nearby. A shiver went up her spine.

"Ahead!" a captain shouted. Another portal had opened, smaller and not as powerful as the Bifrost. The champions must've travelled to this place in order to arrive on Asgard in a safe, unified manner.

The warriors neared the champions. Only, they were not unified. As they bickered between themselves, Ellie stared in confused disgust. There were four. One was dressed in a black metal casing. He was in a screaming match with the stout dwarf. The other two were at each other's throats, screeching about how they had Odin's favour.

Ellie leaned towards Lounn. "What kind of champions are these?"

"Pretentious pifflers."

The return journey followed the same route where the path wound back and forth like a snake, tangling with the great marshlands of Yggdrasil. Sometimes the road vanished completely, having sunk into the ground. The land was inhaling their carts, interspersing with thorn bushes and poisonous gas which erupted from bubbles in the dirt. Even so, the marsh was quiet.

Ellie lumbered along behind a wagon packed with champions, the wheels creaked once but were soaked with mud. It was more of a squelch which spat back at her. Even so, their journey wouldn't take so long if the champions travelled by foot instead of being pulled by the Asgardians. It was all rather telling as Ellie found these champions as righteous as wet socks.

The captains begrudgingly agreed to stop so the champions could gather their wits and eat.

"I bet it's Malai that's the half-breed," Gustav said, rather loudly to the group sat around one of the small fires "They don't have marshlands like this on Midgard. Did you see her face when that stink-bubble exploded?"

"Because it stank, you wretch," Ellie nearly spat. "Not that you'd notice. When was the last time you bathed?"

This evoked Gustav. "Maybe you're the human swine," he shot back. Their conversation was brief as Helga appeared with a cauldron of stew. She slopped two ladle-fulls of it into their bowls. When she got to Ellie, she stopped and stared. Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted her bowl.

Helga slopped a ladle of food in and stomped off.

After that, no one was in the mood to talk. It was far too grim and cold in the marshlands for anything at all. Whispers emerged from the bog. Ellie tried to digest whether the trees were speaking, but the more she listened the more she realised the world itself was alive. From the murky water, to the reeds and dead forest; everything was speaking.

She lifted her bowl to her bowl and drank the stew. Helga took it with a huff and threw it into the fire. The wood caught on as the other warriors chucked theirs in, feasting on the warmth as a chill set in.

"We're not far from the Bifrost," the captain said.

As soon as the words left his lips, a draugr leapt from the swamp water. He gurgled and launched itself at the captain who swung his sword and sliced through its middle. Its innards spewed onto the ground. Ellie had shot to her feet, her sword posed in her hand.

"Now!" the captain ordered. "We leave now!"

The dwarf snorted. "I have not finished my stew. Surely you Asgardians are able to bat them off while I…"

"Now," he snapped.

Ellie began to shake. She stared at the draugr and fought the bile creeping up her throat. "Dear God," she said. A strange hissing noise emerged behind her.

Draugr were crawling out of the bog. They were human-like monsters with rotting skin which slid off their bodies like wet tissue paper. Open sores covered their bodies, bursting like pustules of gas in the bog. Ellie spun and screamed. She shot forwards and slashed her sword down on the draugr much like she would've done on Earth with a slipper and spider.

Her sword came down with a squelch. It stripped the draugr's arm from his body.

Ellie heaved, stumbling back. Lounn sprinted in front and slashed the draugr's head off.

"Fuck!" she said. "I… thank you."

"Behind you!" he cried.

Swinging her weapon, Ellie's sword kissed the ribcage of another draugr. The sound of metal against gritty bone should've been frightening, but it was melodic in her ears. The draugr fell sideways, spurting blood up her face. Its warmth was beautiful against the coldness of the world.

The champions on the cart stared at the chaos around them and leapt off. For a moment, Ellie thought they were going to help. Then they shoved her out of the way and sprinted towards the burned rune in the ground.

Suddenly, a blast of white light blinded the entire bog. The remaining draugr cried out in fear, slithering back into the water. Ellie felt Lounn take ahold her her arm and yank her towards the portal. The warriors hurried after the champions and ascended into Asgard.

Ellie fell onto her knees inside of the Bifrost. The glistening floor showed her a reflection of herself. A red streak painted her face. Her braids were knotted and filthy. There was a distinct taste of mud in her mouth. She promptly vomited.

Around her, other novices were heaving their stomachs up or clutching their chests to still their racing hearts. Naeva was laughing manically, helping a sick Lounn to his feet.

"Did you see me with those two draugr," she cried. "Odin, how I slashed through them like… like a warrior!"

Rising shakily to her own feet, Ellie smiled. Naeva slammed into her, holding her in a tight embrace. Ellie began to laugh. She snorted as they parted and stared at the bloody mess they'd become. Ellie was exhilarated. She ran a hand through her sticky hair and pulled out a fleshy slither of draugr. The roar of the arena sang a tune down her ears.

"Yes," a voice boomed. It caught Ellie off guard, scaring her into submission. "Well done, to our warriors for their... unsolicited bravery."

Ellie's eyes shot to the Allfather and the colour drained from her face.

* * *

**References**

_The Tournament of Titans_ – Thor 1966 Comic No. 2.

_Bone, Mush, Bone_ – Alfie Solomons in Peaky Blinders

_Draugr_ – Norse zombie-like creature


	19. Born for Glory

**Worship of the Gods**

_I do not say that there is no **glory** to be gained in war;  
but it is not personal **glory**.  
In itself, no cause was ever more glorious  
than that of men who struggle,  
not to conquer territory,  
not to gather spoil, not to gratify ambition,  
but for freedom, for religion,  
for hearth and home, and to revenge  
the countless atrocities inflicted upon them  
by their oppressors._

– G. A. Henty

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Born for Glory

"It's been a while since they went in," Frigga twirled a rich curl around her finger. "The champions must be presented soon. Your father should have done this afterwards."

"Curse these strong walls." Thor pressed an ear to the wall, straining to hear a slither of what was happening in the council chamber. He didn't value privacy, feeling he deserved to be a part of affairs and most definitely if they were royal. "I can't hear anything they're saying."

Not allowed to sit without their father present, the princes decided their company was best needed by their mother. Champions and Asgardians alike would wait for the Allfather, regardless of how long he took with other issues. Ellie, having left the safety of Asgard, was a problem which reminded Loki of a childhood scolding he and Thor had, had many years ago.

"For the best, I assume," Loki said. "Hearing Father screeching is not in the fanciful mood of a tournament."

"Hush," Frigga said with a knowing smirk. "Thor, shouldn't you be preparing for the tournament?"

"Mother," he sighed, "we both know I will defeat whichever poor soul chooses me."

Loki smirked. "Don't stroke his ego anymore, Mother."

The Queen Mother smiled gently. "If you wanted to fight side by side with the Warriors Three, then you could have, my son."

"Perhaps," he scoffed. "Hearing my voice boasting about battle triumphs would be better."

In the orphanage they said she was a botched abortion and she'd always believed the only thing worse than being called unwanted, was knowing you definitely were. That was until three men ordered her to the council chamber and said her presence remained unnecessary.

Ellie stormed forwards. "I wanted to go," she said. "They are my people. I've fought, bled and ran with them. They are mine to protect as they do, me."

Odin clenched his teeth tightly. Tyr and Aelfred stood on either side of him, reminding Ellie of a pair of squawking parrots.

"You disobeyed orders," Tyr spat. "I should revoke you as a warrior this moment."

Enraged by their belittlement, Ellie surprised herself by replying. "Don't do me the pleasure."

Aelfred scoffed to the Allfather. "Is this how you train her? What shall I tell Lord Freyr in my next letter? That we are raising an insolent child?"

Odin silenced Aelfred by raising his hand.

"I'm this fucking… saviour!"

"But you're not!" Odin boomed, startling Ellie into submission. She took a step back, her senses overwhelmed by his power. "Not yet," he said. An instinct took over her body. She lowered her head, bowing her entire being to him.

Ellie swallowed. "I wanted to prove my worth."

"And you will, child," he said. "In due time." Outside, someone blew a horn. Another roar of the crowd erupted from the arena. The Allfather straightened, adjusting his crown and matching cape. "You don't make a decision until calling for council first."

"Yes, my King."

"If you'll excuse me, I have a tournament to initiate." Odin left the room with a pleasant smile on his face. He took the air from Ellie as he went, and she felt… consoled by his words. A part of her knew he was furious, but he had to have seen her blood-stained face and victorious return as an achievement.

Tyr stalked past her. His stout figure turned before he left the room to shoot her a wink. Ellie stared after him, a wry smirk began to creep up her face. That was until Aelfred walked into her eyeline.

"Did you really think this would be easy?" he bemused. "A human training alongside Aesir blood?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't know if you've noticed," she said, "but I killed those draugr bastards."

"A draugr is much like an ant is to a boot." Ellie stared at him in disbelief. "If you wanted to be special, you should've turned out to be Ljósálfar."

"A human can do just as much as a light-elf," she spat.

"No, they can't." Aelfred was livid. His words were venomous, laced with disgust. Ellie could only guess that his letters to Freyr were tainted as well. His next words were not meant to leave his lips, that much Ellie knew. As he stepped forwards, his eyes were flared with fire. "Freyr was a fool to believe you were the daughter of Niamh Chinn Óir," he hissed.

Ellie blinked. "Who?"

Reality seemed to leave Aelfred. He struggled to composed himself and began to stutter. His cheeks bloomed bright red. "I… no one," he said. "No one of your interest."

"But, you…"

"You've been tested," he said, storming from the room. The hall echoed with his words as they bounced back into Ellie's ears like pinballs. "And you _are_ nobody. Nobody at all."

Leaving Midgard was hard until Ellie realised that there was little it could offer her. She had no inheritance, no real last name and no family that would miss her. Being a philosopher of sorts, it was easy adapting to the existence of Asgard as there was no solid reason why it shouldn't exist at all. Ellie knew that she existed for a reason. Her birth was purposeful.

Ellie stormed out of the palace and through the vacant streets. She reached the stadium as the champions were being announced. Her teeth were still clenched as she manoeuvred through the crowd and back to her seat beside Lounn. None of them had bothered to bathe. The stench of draugr guts was getting to the onlookers around them as Ellie noted their disgusted expressions and wrinkling nostrils.

She scratched the dried blood on her forehead and shrugged it off. The four champions stood in the middle of the stadium, waving at their audience. Ellie decided then that she despised them.

"The Tournament of Titans is a decade tradition," Odin boomed. "To prove the worth of the universes' finest warriors, I present Thor Odinson – the God of Thunder. Fandral the Dashing." The blond warrior trotted in after the prince. "Hogun the Grim!" He, too, strode in on a horse. "And Volstag – the Valient, the Voluminous! The Lion of Asgard!"

Volstagg's laughter echoed before he made a physical appearance. His horse was twice as large as the others as it needed to carry his great weight.

"Our champions must defeat Asgard's finest warriors in order to win the golden armour." Odin slammed a golden staff into the ground. It sent a ripple of excitement across the stadium. Ellie leaned forwards, staring in wonder at the eight beings circling one another.

A tall champion in a purple cloak approached Fandral. "I am Braggart, son of Ivar! I challenge Fandral."

Fandral cackled. "You chose wrong. Losing must be your favourite sport."

"Winning against an Asgardian is my favourite sport."

Thor wield his sword. "Sport? To fight a smaller foe is cowardice."

"I'm small and mighty, dear prince," Fandral pranced towards Braggart. He swiped his sword at him and their blades clashed. For such arrogant words, Braggart was a terrible fighter. His stance was clumsy, and his form was off-balance.

Ellie shook her head with a scoff, sharing a knowing look with Lounn who was thinking the same thing.

Fandral ducked beneath Braggart's swing and caught him in the stomach. He stumbled back with a cry. Fandral span and sliced him across the throat. Ellie gasped, a hand shooting to her mouth.

"Wahey!" Lounn cheered.

Death. That was the price for such a tournament. Everyone was screaming with delight, enjoying the spectacle of Braggart's splattered blood. Ellie's half-hearted clap was a sorrowful attempt at fitting in with the Asgardian spirit. She shot a look at Gustav, but he was too focused on the gore to look out for human scum.

"I am Drom!" the dwarf yacked. His bright green armour sparkled in the sunlight. "Known as the Spirit-Weaver! I come from a world of a thousand galaxies where battle is our food, drink and very lives! I challenge Volstagg!"

Volstagg leapt from his horse, striking Drom with a great bang. The dwarf flew into the sand; it erupted around him like an ash cloud. There was no word from Thor about cowardice. Then again, Drom chose his fate. Like a great bear, Volstagg descended on Drom.

He lifted his axe his into the air. Light glinted off its blade. The crowd screamed around Ellie. She clapsed her hands over the side of her head and look down, squeezing her eyes together. A cruel squelch followed. The audience laughed louder.

_This universe is savage. A universe of things dying, or eating each other; all around us._

By the time Ellie opened her eyes, Hogun was battling a beastly man named Knut. As the grandson of an elite lord from across the universe, his training was well-pained and complimentary of his strong figure. However, Hogun was a brutal fighter. He slashed through the air, striking Knut in the head.

Knut screamed, falling onto his side. He scrambled to his feet, blood pouring down the side of his face. With a grunt, he jabbed at Hogun who discarded it and buried his sword in Knut's throat. Bile rose up Ellie's throat as she stared at the kill. It was animalistic. Knut went limp in his arms and slumped to the ground like a soggy towel.

"Yes!" roared Hogun.

The final champion was the one dressed in black. His steps were rippling thuds which Ellie felt quake her seat. The arena fell silent.

"And you might you be dark knight?" Thor said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He tilted his head. "We met once before. On the battlefield."

"I have been on many battlefields."

"Allfather!" the warrior cried. "You took my power. It is time for me to take yours."

Whispers soaked the crowd. Odin rose to his feet, demanding the warrior name himself.

"This body is a prison; that's how I was able to slip past your guard," he said. "But my thoughts are free. I name myself: The Destroyer." With a grunt, the warrior burst from his feeble body and expanded. He grew, towering above Thor and his black armour transformed into metal. It shimmers across his figure like butterfly wings.

Beneath it, red burst. Ellie leapt to her feet, her hand flying to her waist. There was no sword in her sheath. It was locked away in the barracks. Beside her, the crowd were on their toes, craning their necks to get a better look.

Thor twirled his sword in his hand. "The Destroyer? I thought my brother had ruined you years ago."

"Your weak Aesir blood is no match for me. The stakes have been raised. You will all burn when I wear the golden armour."

Loki attempted to move out of his seat, but Odin threw a hand out and clamped down on his arm. He held the prince there.

"They can't give him the armour, can they?" Ellie shot at Lounn.

He nodded, fear in his eyes. "Yes. It's an oath made by the Allfather. It has to be obeyed."

The Destroyer marched around the arena, startling the horses which accompanied the Warriors Three. "Accept my challenge Thor Odinson, or I will burn your people."

Assembled in a small group, the Asgardians watched him. There was a harrowing silence and then Odin bowed his head. "Let the champion approach!" he said. "You must defeat the remaining warriors and live to tell the tale."

Thor stretched his shoulders. "So be it," he boasted.

With a roar, the tournament resounded. The Destroyer used his bare fists against his opponents. Each klang of metal bounced around the arena, hurting Ellie's sensitive ears. Fandral could not hop quick enough around the Destroyer's swings and was thrown against the edge.

Hogun clambered up the back of the Destroyer, slicing at his spine with tiny daggers. They had no effect on him, only creating white electrified sparks. A deep rumble from within the Destroyer was followed by his armour opening and blasting a fireball at Hogun's feet. He leapt back, collapsing in a smouldering heap.

Ellie prayed he wasn't dead, nor Fandral.

She watched Volstagg cry out. He threw himself at the Destroyer, who miraculously took a step back. The warrior's size was a remarkable asset in fighting. It was also his downfall.

The Destroyer fell onto his front, squashing the great fighter. He stayed there for several moments, to the dismay of the audience and arose to reveal an unconscious Volstagg. Ellie muttered a curse, straining her listening to see if Volstagg was alive.

He released a pained groan. The audience clapped madly.

Riding atop his horse, Thor hurtled towards the Destroyer. His sword kissed the punch of the Destroyer who stepped back, amazed by the strength of Thor. The champions armour, or skin, appeared to ripple with the touch of Thor's blade.

Ellie was in awe of his strength. He truly was the son of the Allfather. To be born into greatness was a godly thing. Is she were the daughter of this Niamh Chinn Óir then maybe she would've had a similar honour endowed to herself?

Ultimately, the universe had not been so kind.

* * *

From his seat, Odin the Allfather, watched his first-born hurl insults and strikes at the unbeatable opponent. His fist was clenched on his armrest. Anger permeated the air around him, startling the servants which waited on him.

The Queen Mother was on her feet. Her emotions were not as well guarded as her husband's. She shot a glance down at him. A thousand pleas were exchanged in that glance. Frigga blinked quickly, turning back to the fight. She stared at the Destroyer's untouchable armour and called upon the powers of the universe to taint its strength.

Odin took his wife's hand, grasping it tightly as deep-seated energy rippled out of her.

Their son cried and hurled his sword in the throat of the Destroyer. It was lodged in deep. Thor wrenched, ripping the vocal cords from inside so they were thrown into the crowd. The onlookers erupted into cheer, clapping wildly.

* * *

**References**

_Tournament of Titans_ – Thor Comic 1966 No. 2

_The Destroyer – _In Thor (2011), the destroyer is the metal man acting as the scapegoat for Loki. A bit of a backstory to his origins for later in the series!

_Frigga helping Thor_ – I figured that Thor was an arrogant toe-rag because he had been babied and taught he was better than he was. Just a little moment reflecting on that.


	20. The First Test

Worship of the Gods

_Because true belonging only happens  
when we present our authentic,  
imperfect selves to the world,  
our sense of belonging can never  
be greater than our level of self-acceptance._

– Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

* * *

Chapter Twenty: The First Test 

Ellie stumbled back to the training barracks feeling rather giddy. She giggled to herself and hiccupped, tasting ale on the back of her tongue. "Oh," she said, "excuse me." Going to bed while the rest of Asgard celebrated the Destroyer's defeat seemed like an unsociable and lonely way to enjoy the night.

After travelling through the Bifrost, slicing a draugr in the stomach receiving a harsh telling off from the Allfather, Ellie quite liked the sound of sleeping. It wasn't just bed which called to her, but something else begged her to return to the barracks. She first felt the feeling when she started her goblet and tried to shrug it off; enjoying Lounn and Naeva's chatty company. Then someone said her voice. It was loud and clear in her head, calling for her.

"Must be going barmy on sleep deprivation," she muttered, wandering through the courtyard. "If I dream of being a botched abortion… a plague on Asgardian life… or a leach on Aelfred's existence… I'll bloody…"

"Intoxication is illegal on training grounds," a guard snapped. Ellie whipped round, staring at the two as they guarded the oak doors. With a scoff, she threw a hand at them. "This is Asgard, drinking is legal in a morgue. Don't lie to me."

"Just hurry up and get to your chamber," he said snippily, earning a frown from Ellie.

"I'm on my way now," she replied with a touch of annoyance. "Christ, give me a moment."

"You've had a moment." He tilted his head, urging her inside with the dangerous prod of his spear. "Inside."

Ellie wanted to tell him that the entire training population had yet to return to the barracks, but his tiresome attitude and pointy weapon were influencing her to give him a punch, not explanatory words. However, she reminded herself that a snappy response was mundane and didn't help at all. Shooting the guard, a sour look, she stormed past him and down the corridor.

The torches were alight, beckoning the trainees into soft slumber. Ellie blinked lazily, staring up at the red flame. It was hot. By the looks of the Destroyer, he was full of fire as well. Were his innards on fire? His liver and heart an ever-burning torch? With a shiver, she stepped back.

Usually, the barracks were pitch black and she was skimming her hands along the walls in an attempt to make it back to her room. It must've been the late celebration. However, there was no noise in the barracks, no echo from the town. It was deathly silent.

Ellie glanced back at the guard, who was now gone. She listened for his breathing, or steps, but there was nothing.

Rounding the corner into the dining hall, she found that empty as well. There were no tables or chairs, only the hanging metal chandeliers which illuminated the room in an eerie red glow. Ellie's boots pattered the floor.

"Hello?" she said aloud. "Helga?"

Ellie had sensed something was wrong the moment she'd been approached by the guard. The unsettling itch only grew as she reached the kitchen door. It was unlocked, slightly ajar so the candlelight spilled onto Ellie's feet.

"Helga?" she asked again, pushing the door open. It creaked.

Inside the kitchen, the ovens were still roaring with fire. There was a full hog turning on a spit, burnt to a crisp nearly and smoking. Ellie squinted as her eyes began to ache. She coughed and held a hand out, trying to will magic to extinguish the flames.

Nothing came to her, she was an empty vessel of power. With a frustrated grunt, she reached for a cleaning pot and threw it into the oven. There was a harsh sizzle and a few pieces of coal spat out onto the floor.

Ellie continued to cough and called out for the chef again. She was sobering up rather quickly now.

A grumble echoed from the dining hall, making her jump. She flinched and turned around quickly, staring at the door she had only just walked through. Ellie reached for a thick carving knife; it had been recently used; slick with oil from a hog's leg.

Hearting pumping loudly in her ears. Ellie reached the door and waited a moment. Her legs were shaking, and she couldn't understand why. Something was warning her, it was like a fog inside of her lungs. She exhaled shakily and stepped into the hall.

The hairs on the nape of her neck rose.

It was crouched in the corner of the hall; a slack-jawed, viscous warg. Thick legs bent into a pounce, the black-haired creature stared at Ellie with red, beady eyes. A long, bloodied tongue slid out of his mouth and licked its bottom lip.

"_Aknuk El Vira mismantos knitos eferma litos varom merda_," it slithered.

Ellie knew now that it was spell for dark magic. She hadn't known it then, when she was an ignorant philosopher on that bridge. She knew now that the wargs possessed magic similar to hers. With great difficulty, Ellie raised a hand and focused on a candle on one of the tables. She flexed her fingers, willing it to rise into the air.

It wobbled. She couldn't control her shaking form. The warg glanced at the candle and when it realised she had no real control, it sprinted towards her. _Thud_. _Thud_. _Thud_. _Snarl_.

Releasing the candle from her magical grasp, Ellie slashed the knife in front of her. The warg snapped at her, taking ahold of the blade with its teeth. Yanking her whole arm, Ellie jolted. A shriek tore from her throat.

She fell backwards and smacked her head off the floor. Its teeth sank into her foot. No time to react, the warg pulled her brutally. Slightly dazed, Ellie looked to her side and threw an arm out to grab the knife which had clattered close-by.

With it in her sweaty fingers, she willed her upper body to lift up. A grunt left her mouth as she jammed the knife into the warg's face. It sliced through the bone just below its eye and released Ellie's foot with a yelp. It was similar to a dog as it shook its head, throwing off the blood seeping out of its skin. It also had her shoe.

A red-hot feeling spread up Ellie's leg. She scrambled back, hitting the table.

"Where is the stone?" the warg drawled. Finally able to understand its language, Ellie was even more terrified. It was better when it was unrecognisable, now it's all-language translated tongue could live in her nightmares. "Give me the stone."

Shaking her head, she rose shakily to her feet. "I don't have it."

"You have the stone." It dove and took her tunic in its jaws. "Give it to me."

Ellie wanted to scream that he could have it. He could take it if he pleased; if it meant he would stop hurting her. However, she knew that the light elves would be doomed forever. Also, disappointing Frigga would tear her heart apart. The warg released her and took ahold of her arm, ripping the sleeve. .

"I long to be true to Your Word," Ellie screeched, grappling the stone floor with her bare nails. "Pray that you love me. I will give you praise and glory – and love! Help me, help me, God. Help me."

Ellie's other hand took hold of a steak knife off the floor. With a screech, she drove the knife into the top of the warg's skull. She wanted to blind it, hurt it and send its soul to Hel. The creature stumbled back and Ellie watched as its torn skin began to stitch itself, flesh crawled over the stabbings like spiders.

With the seconds she had to spare, she clambered onto a table and began crawling up a giant tapestry, trying to reach the windows. The warg to control the doorways, but she had been treating the roof of the barracks like a playground for months. Her feet hooked onto the jutted out stones behind it and she was grateful that her training attire was as useful as she was discovering it to be.

As her fingers ghosted the ledge of the window, the warg jumped up and held her with its giant paw. It pushed her against the wall, pressing her face into the tapestry. Her nostrils filled with the stench of musty wool and dust.

"Fuck," she hissed, eyes wide with fear. The warg stilled, pressing into her testily. With a loud grunt, she pushed from the wall, fighting against the strength of the warg. Bringing a foot up, she leveraged herself up and scrambled onto the window ledge. The cold air was beautiful on her sweaty skin.

Breathing heavily, Ellie stared down at the warg. It looked up at her, its lips wet with saliva. "I'll never give it to you," she spat.

"Give me the stone, Eurelia," it demanded.

She froze, staring down at the warg.

"You said my name," she exhumed breathlessly. The warg almost looked surprised. It jerked back as if her words scolded it. Ellie took an uneven step along the window sill and due to her distracted heart, her foot missed.

With a cry, she fell. The world was a blur of red, yellow and white and as she stared up at the growing canopy, her eyes found blue. Ellie scrunched her face up, awaiting the hard ground.

Her body became weightless, falling like a feather. She silently came to rest against the floor in a foetal position; her heavy breaths the only out-of-touch aspect of the world around her. There were no growls, no guttural words, and no warg. It was like falling asleep.

"Impressive, brother." Thor came into her vision, looking down at her with a thoughtful frown. Ellie stared up at him, going slack-jawed. He was still wearing his tournament clothes and wavered slightly as if full of ale.

"I've always insisted I'm the talented one," Loki replied, appearing beside the blond prince. "Should've been me battling the Destroyer."

"Don't make me laugh," Thor said. "Did you feel anything when she went for your eye?"

Loki shook his head, studying Ellie's sweaty form. "Not a thing. She was rather aggressive at moments, wasn't she?"

"Pity. You didn't even feel a tickle?" Thor prodded Loki in the side, an amused grin lighting up his face. "Not an itch? I can re-enact it now." Continuing to poke his brother, Thor and Loki laughed in unison.

Ellie struggled to sit up. The brothers moved immediately, offering their hands. With an icy hiss, she refused them both and clambered to her feet. Her body wobbled, aching from her wounds and trying to flush out the remaining adrenaline. She stared at Loki.

"How dare you," she hissed. The smile slid from his face, as did Thor's as they were addressed with venom. "I told you those things gave me nightmares for weeks. And you used it to – to laugh at me?"

It took all the strength she had in her not to burst into tears. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the hall. The torches had begun to burn low, obviously the lighters had been commanded away from the training quarters. Other warriors were not in sight. Not even the sound of their laughter accompanied Ellie as she thundered down a corridor.

Her chamber was dark when she opened the door. She struggled to light the match and instead hurried to open the window. She threw open the wooden shutter and expelled a heavy sob. The vast city outside was dimly lit and silent. Her breath caught in her throat.

_How foolish I was to believe I could do this_. She wondered whether Loki would've ripped her throat open to prove that point.

Something stirred behind her, and a figure entered her room.

Ellie nearly screamed, but a hand came to her mouth, clamping down on the sound. His fingers were smooth against her cheek; they were cold and slender. "Stop this foolishness." His voice was velvet, cutting through the heavy air.

Outside of her room, guards began to chatter casually again. Thor's booming laugh echoed from the hall and the hand slipped from her face.

Ellie saw the raven-haired prince for all he was, the high cheekbones and intense stare. The royal blood which channelled through his every being. The moonlight shone on him, leaving her in the dark.

"Yes," she said, too distraught to conjure much else. "Yes, it is foolish."

"I should have realised you would soon figure out the illusion." He nearly laughed. "We spend far too much time together for my liking."

"You tricked me."

"I tested you on the orders of my father." His face became still.

"You hurt me."

"Did I?" His eyes fell to Ellie's perfectly healed bare-foot. There was not one wound on her. "You exist to do this task." He discarded the shoe he had bought with him to return to Ellie. "How you feel have nothing to do with it."

Ellie felt it had everything to do with it.

"I trusted you with how I felt about them. The nightmares I've… every night they're with me. And you –"

"They look monstrous because they are monstrous. You have wasted days praying for strength to overcome it all, have you not? Why is your God not giving you your wish?" Loki's figure towered over Ellie. She was shrinking in all aspects of her being and had little time to even protect an ounce of whatever dignity she had left.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, trying to press further into the windowsill.

"You promised to save their lives."

"And can't you see? I can't," she said. "I am terrified."

"Everything scares you," he spat. Raising a hand, Ellie thought for a blind moment he was going to take her by the throat. Instead, he pressed two fingers to her temple and two to her cheek. He held her with his gaze and the world melted away.

Ellie was falling through his blue eyes. She fell through blood, fire and rot. It swam around her in a blanket of choking darkness. And there were children screeching. Trees blossomed like poppies, only they were red with flame and turning to ash. Beyond that, she saw Freyr clutching the dead bodies of his children. He held a faceless woman with one arm, sobbing until blood poured from his eyes.

Loki yanked her out of the illusion. It was too jarring. Ellie turned and vomited out of the window. She panted into night and began sobbing.

"Everything scares you and you have to look. You have to _look_."

The night air masked her nausea, but her vision swam with images of fire. How many burning bodies could one remember? They swam through her memory on a river of nightmares. Ellie could smell the stink of burning and brimstone.

"I teach you," Loki hissed, pulling her back to face him. "You can't be afraid anymore. I teach you so you won't suffer or get hurt." He closed his eyes for a long moment. "You have to look so you can protect yourself." Suddenly, his face transformed. He was a wolf, not a warg, but a thick-skinned black wolf. "You can't be scared."

Her body was tight with fear, and every combat technique disappeared from her mind. She wanted to scream as his hands held her, and his face snarled. Hot breath fanned her face, pushing through her nostrils and throat.

"Loki," she said, her voice small and thin. She couldn't remember what else she wanted to say, terrified he would transform completely and rip her apart. After a moment, Loki's black eyes became azure and his face returned with a word leaving his lips.

Some instinct made her lift her hand and hold her fingers against his cheek. She touched him like he was crystal that had already begun to crack. He was so cold, so smooth beneath her. "Eurelia," he said, his voice a hiss from deep within.

Then he was gone from the room.

Ellie was too hot. _Heavenly Father, give me your courage_, she prayed, squeezing her eyes together and pushing every ounce of loneliness out of her. It pulsed like a wave and was reborn with desire.

Ellie snapped her eyes open, surging with a ferociousness she once had before. Long ago, on a bridge beneath the stars. Storming from the room, she entered the hall to find Loki and Thor examining the broken canvas. Ellie yanked a dagger out of the table and suddenly, it was flying across the hall.

With a bang, it was lodged into the canvas between Loki and Thor. They stopped still, tensing completely.

"Help me," she demanded, her voice full of passion. "Help me." That human nervousness itched at her as Loki turned around and met her eyes with a steady, unemotional look. Ellie raised her other hand, pointing her finger at him. "You are the only one who can show me what I am."

"And why is that, Midgardian?"

"You hide..." she said, her voice wavering. "You hide behind your pretty voice, your magic and your name. Odinson. And yet, you're the strongest thing in Asgard. You can move mountains, sing to water. You hide..." her eyes blurred as she felt her need unravel. God's prayers could only do so much. "Help me find what's hidden inside of me."

"What if we find nothing at all?"

"You know that's impossible now. I can feel it." Sweat made Ellie's grip slippery. Her body began to quiver. "It scratches inside of me. Like a creature."

Loki stood exceptionally still, staring at her. His brother was confused at their exchange but remained silent and observant. There was a heat in the room which none of them could ignore.

Loki nodded curtly. Slightly embarrassed, Ellie tilted her head to them both and turned on her heel. They could clean up the mess she had caused. In her room, her window was still open and blowing a cool breeze through her.

She leaned against the windowsill and stayed there for several moments. How long she stayed there, she couldn't say. She watched the celebrations disintergrate; the torches distinguish and Asgardians retreat to bed. The trainees slowly crept back to the barracks, filling it with laughter and happiness. Not one shred of evidence was left by Loki or Thor. They had seemingly vanished into thin air to join the parties.

With the silence filled with happy drunkards, Ellie curled up on her bed and dreamed of a black wolf with blue eyes.

* * *

**References**

_The Shoe_ \- Cinderella! Don't you just love fairytales?

_Aknuk El Vira mismantos knitos eferma litos varom merda - _the latin spell from chapter one!


	21. Lay of Kraka

Worship of the Gods

_Embrace the darkness  
and I will help you see  
that you can be limitless and fearless  
if you follow me_

– Karliene, The Beast

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: Lay of Kraka

Ellie tried to keep a brave face on her, for Lounn's sake. He was petrified of wolves. He'd never seen one before. When they arrived in the training arena after a briefing from Tyr, they came across a dozen wolves chained up, and waiting. As Ellie slipped her fingers around the hilt of her sword, the Warrior's Three entered.

The novices trembled, some holding fat tears in their eyes as they had the pleasure of speaking to their heroes. "Oh, Gods," Lounn whispered, unable to pull his gaze away from the wolves.

"This is a good day," Naeva tried to tell him. "You don't have to be afraid. They're only illusions." But Lounn held her opinion at a distance. Illusions could hurt.

Ellie found herself clutching the hilt and watching as her accomplices enter the training ground. They were all determined, slightly unhinged with nervousness, but better than their first days. Looking at the combat from afar made Ellie think of the warg in the barracks. When she slept, she dreamed of a warg ripping her apart and then its teeth became orphan fingers, telling her she was botched and nobody.

Wolves were quite beautiful from afar, not so friendly when they bore their teeth but elegantly smooth to watch. Their furs were different colours, some white and grey and red, and their snarls were different.

"Looking for inspiration?" asked Ajun, studying Ellie's distant stare. He had grown immensely, the biceps pushed against his linens threateningly. Ellie tried not to be disgruntled by him, but she despised how often he beat her.

"No." Ellie didn't want to tell him a thing. She didn't know what she was looking for, but it definitely wasn't inspiration. _It was combative techniques against wolves, _she told herself, but the thought was unsettling. It told her that Loki had reported back to Odin, who reported to Tyr, who shifted their training to purposely target Ellie. She did not want to be in control. The warriors around her were just as important as she.

But not answering Ajun was even worse. He was a nosey, prideful man beneath the arrogant exterior. His eyes bore into Ellie's face. "I'm watching Malai's stances," he finally said. "They're sloppy. She's forgotten to keep them spread. We've had weeks of footwork, of balancing on poles and haybales. She's excellent at prancing too, so I can't understand why she's stumbling so much."

He thought her rambling would excite Ellie. She only shot him a disgruntled look. "Bit picky, aren't you?"

Malai screeched and stumbled back. Ellie dared not grimace aloud as it would encourage Ajun to criticise her more. He made certain he was seen as a fit kingsguard, belittling the novices around him.

Lounn bit his nails. "All-gods," he cursed, "I can't sit here and watch this."

The wolf lurched at Malai, nearly biting her bottom jaw off. It startled Lounn so fiecly, that he shot back in his seat and clamped his hands down underneath his bottom.

"Don't be scared," Ellie told him. "If you get scared, then I'll be scared. It'll be a disaster. This is just a small part of our training. Then it's over. In two hours, you'll be bathing in a hot bath full of lilac and gooseberries." Lounn only dug his nails into his under-legs.

"I hate wolves," he said. "I hate wolves. I hate wolves."

"Stop whinging," Gustav snapped, "blubbering enough to make a river."

Ellie shot him a look. "Hardly. Malai is part of us. We have to do something. She can't concentrate if we're bickering."

Vidar was prone to humming to himself. He liked to clutch his chest, his very heart and sing lullabies. At first, it had been annoying, but it had become rather soothing. He sat close-by, singing to himself and watching the wolves descend on the warriors. Ellie knew many Norse hymns and chants. Singing was a part of Asgardian life she didn't want to ignore.

"Vidar," she called. "Sing louder. Tell us the tales you tell yourself."

He curtly nodded, pushing his long braid back. His hair was long and interwoven with many runes; mostly carved by himself.

Ellie's watched him compose himself. His deep voice rang as he loudly sang the Krákumál. It was a hymn dedicated to the joy of life, glory of revenge and pleasures of Valhalla. Many songs followed the same themes, but all contained different stories. There were thousands of years of knowledge embedded in them. For the first time, Ellie found it comforting.

_We swung our sword hard.  
Soon we will drink ale  
out of skulls:  
a warrior moans not at death._

Lounn lifted his hands, looking out at the stadium. There was a deep-seated desire in his gaze. Ellie's ears picked up on humming coming from his throat. He sang alongside Vidar, closing his eyes to reminisce in the history of his people.

_Home I invite dísir  
which Odin sends me  
Glad shall I drink ale as Aesir  
in excellence I will drink  
life's moments are passing  
laughing shall I die._

Peace swept through Ellie. As a cloud in her chest, she felt compelled to share it with her friend. She touched a gentle hand to Lounn's shoulder. "Don't be afraid. You contain the strength of your ancestors."

Lounn looked at her with eyes swollen with passion. "As do you, Eurelia."

Her hand slipped from him. She pulled her gaze back to Malai, in troubled thought about Aelfred's words. Was there a chance her ancestors weren't human? He told her no, but he was a stubborn old man with little respect for anyone other than Lord Freyr. It was time to visit the Völva again and lick his hand…

Ellie shuddered.

She was soon ordered to the training platform, alongside several others including Lounn. Malai was being dragged away from two guards, dribbling blood over the floor. She must've been petrified of wolves as well. It seems like wolves were a common plague on the people of Asgard. Why?

Volstagg was overseeing the techniques in Ellie's section. He winked at her when she neared. She clamped her emotions in a vault, not giving away an ounce of humanness.

"Terrified little creatures, aren't you?" he bellowed, catching them off guard. "As with the journey you took in retrieving the champions, the Allfather has decided to push forth the narrative that monsters are everywhere."

A novice beside Ellie, held up a shaky hand. "Why a wolf?"

"Why not?" he said. "Not scared of the big, bad Fenrir, are you?"

"N-no, sir."

"Begin, then, little sprites," he boomed with a cackle. Shoving each of them with a wolf, Ellie was not grateful she ended up with the fiercest looking one of the bunch. It hunched beside its chain as a large, shaggy mass.

Ellie's hand shook as she gripped her sword. Despite the wolf's size, she was more disturbed by how cruel to tie up a creature and taunt it with violence. Then she remembered, it wasn't real. It was magic.

Still, she edged towards it and apologised profusely. "Gods, I'm sorry," she said.

Volstagg laughed. "It's not a real wolf, you fool!"

Yes, she was a fool. She was also a shadow, a dancing one which leapt sideways when the wolf darted at her. Its teeth gnashed loudly at her, making a horrible grinding sound. She swiped her sword, forcing it to edge back. It was difficult to retain a firm stance whilst inching forwards. Her back ached and her arms groaned in discontent.

The wolf growled, diving at her feet. Ellie jumped, falling onto her side. She gasped in shock and scrambled to her feet as the wolf came down upon her. Her sword was knocked from her and she was staring into the face of the wolf.

Vidar's words came to her as a calm lullaby. _Soon we will drink ale out of skulls_. How much ale would fit into a wolf's skull. Quite a bit, Ellie guessed. Although, it would pool out of the cracks in its cranium and out of its hollow eye sockets. The part she enjoyed the most was being able to drink as an Aesir. How marvellous it must be to inhale barrels of ale and saviour its delicate taste without becoming intoxicated. All it took was two pints and she was drunk. Maybe she would've fought Loki's warg better if she hadn't celebrated Thor's victory with the other warriors.

Saliva dripped from the wolf's teeth, oozing onto Ellie's collar. There was sand in its black fur and specks of gold. Thin white hairs speckled its face and the eyes. His eyes were luminous. Ellie was unsure as to why she knew it was a man, only that it was a man. For an instant, his eyes shone clear his black-furred face. They were intensely Aesir.

Fury coloured Ellie's vision red. Her insides burned with anger and shame as memories of her throwing a knife at Loki Odinson returned. How stupid could she have been? Why was he here? Exposing himself to the trainees like a gloating poltergeist, haunting her every move?

Out of the corner of her eye, her sword was cast aside. She wet her lips, debating whether she could do it. She then spat in Loki's face and backed up. The toe of her boot connected with Loki's muzzle and sent it backwards with a sharp bark. She had to have him begging for her to stop, that was the only way. Volstagg had to know this was the prince.

Turning over, Ellie reached for her sword.

Loki slammed a paw against her back, knocking the breath from her. Ellie felt hot breath on her neck, a guttered metal scented saliva. She twisted her arm back and wedge it between the teeth of Loki. Her left hand flushed to his throat. Asgardian metal was at her mercy, the material the only thing between Loki snapping Ellie's wrist in two. With a grunt, she pushed him and let a cry of surprise when Loki released her.

She wasted no time and grabbed her weapon. Throwing it wildly around, she attempted to catch Loki's face and scare it forever. How dare he come here and fight her.

Her sword swiped through mid-air, glinting madly against the sun. She leaned up on her elbows, looking for a wolf. There was none near her. Suddenly, her ears picked up a horrifying hiss. It slithered nearby and she scrambled onto her knees.

In front of her was a snake. It raised its head and hissed at her, showing off pointed fangs which sparkled and dripped with poison. Ellie froze, her braids falling onto her face and covering her vision.

"Come off it, Silvertongue," Volstagg scolded. "When the Allfather discovers you're fraternising…"

The snake transformed rather quickly. Loki's armour matched his wolf's black fur. Ellie sat, staring up at them both in shock.

"Fraternising?" he repeated with an unamused scoff. "If anyone is fraternising it's my oaf of a brother." He looked pointedly across the stadium where the renowned Lady Sif and Thor was parrying playfully with one another. The novice warriors caught on quite quickly around them.

Loki flicked his hand and the wolves dissipated into gold dust. Lounn, mid-lunge, landed in a disgruntled heap.

"My prince!" someone cried.

Another bellowed: "the sons of the Allfather!"

"And the Lady Sif! Valhalla is shining on us!"

Ellie got to her feet, watching the princes become overpowered by the enamoured warriors. They bathed in praise, lapsing up the attention like a couple of dogs.

"Were you battling Silvertongue?" Lounn grabbed her, his voice giddy. "Gods, you are so lucky!"

Naeva ran to them. "The princes are reporting back to Odin on our training. He's in search of a band of warriors for a journey of great importance!"

"What journey?" Ellie unravelled her gauntlets.

Her friend shrugged. "No idea. Ajun hasn't heard the rumour yet."

"Gods, he'll be an absolute menace. The clabbert," Lounn said. "At least you fought one of the Odinsons. How do you feel? Honoured?"

"Like I had my arse kicked," Ellie snapped, throwing her sword into a barrel of spares. She slumped onto a bench and looked across at Vidar who sat humming to himself. It was the same song: the Lay of Kraka. In his beautifully, elegant homage the world was perfect and honourable. In reality, Ellie's mouth was full of sand. It was gritty on the back of her throat.

She wiped her breastplate. Her fingers pulled away attached to a string of wolf saliva.

* * *

**References**

_Krákumál or the Lay of Kraka _– an skaldic poem which contains the Ragnar Lodbrok's dying monologue.


	22. Lithasblot

_Disclaimer: I own no songs, tales or data referenced in this fanfiction._

Worship of the Gods

_The fertile land yields it fruits in the sacred time._

– Lailah Gifty Akita

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: Lithasblot

**One Week Later  
The Royal Gardens**

Frigga wrapped Ellie's hand gently. The sun had just risen, and Ellie found herself meeting the Queen Mother by request. It was also the first day of Lithasblot, the Harvest Festival. Servants were carrying baskets of bread and vegetables around, setting up flower garlands and lanterns in the streets. Getting into the palace was easy in the ruckus.

Opening and closing doors, however, was not easy. Blisters spotted Ellie's palms from her combat training. Frigga slid a healing balm over her skin. Ellie could smell her rich perfume up close. She bowed her head and looked into the fountain.

"I heard you've been fighting well," Frigga said. "Even against my son."

Ellie's hands felt better. "Thank you, my Queen. I can't say I've had much practise against wolves. Especially royal ones."

"Well, our first encounter was with a form of wolf."

Ellie remembered that night. "Yes," she said, almost reminiscently. "I suppose so."

When Frigga finished wrapping Ellie, she slid her hand into hers and they both regarded the fountain quietly. Ellie quite liked the touch; it was maternal and rare. Was this how it felt to have a mother?

Her chest felt heavy as her mind drifted to her old friends and teachers. What would they say if they saw her now? She had otherworldly combat skills and training. Soldiers used to petrify her, and the nuns saw murder as a sin. The medieval aspect of Asgardian training was vastly different to bombs and gunfire, but the sinning part was all the same.

Vanity was another sin. She had been vain on Earth, wondering whether she looked good enough before going for a drink with friends. All these months later, she'd forgotten the feeling of foundation on her skin, or mascara on her eyelashes. With no mirror in her room, she encountered a stranger when she looked in the water. Her skin was smooth. The Asgardian suns must've held some magic in their light; she was nearly glowing. To her confusion, her eyes were vibrant. No dark shadows hung below them, hollowing out her face as if she hadn't slept in years. Even her tight curls were shimmering. She hadn't used royal oils since Cecelia.

"You've changed," Frigga said, her soft gaze studying her face.

"I suppose so."

"And how does that make you feel?"

Ellie looked across at her. "Can't you use magic to figure out how I feel?"

The Queen held her gaze steadily. "Yes, but I'm feeling respectful today."

"Confession," Ellie said heavily. "If I were on Earth, I'd go to confession."

Frigga raised her head thoughtfully. She was gently seated, watching Ellie with deep wonder. If she didn't know what confession was, then she didn't make it obvious. "You weren't born this way; into battle and war," she said. Ellie raised an eyebrow. Had the other warriors figured that part out, too? "Your skin is paper thin; your morals weak and uncalculated. You're human. What we're doing is stripping you down and making you forget you were born with a paper body. We train until you believe you were born to save Alfheim."

Ellie looked down and opened her hands to stare at the bandages. "Who does that make then?" A blister had popped and yellow seeped through the cloth. "I suppose that rules out that woman… that Niahm Chinn Òir being my long-lost mother, right?"

With a frown, the Queen glanced at the empty gardens. "Who told you about her?"

"Aelfred…" Ellie scoffed, "he's been of particular council." An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. "So, who is she?"

Servants entered the gardens, disturbing the awkwardness with laughter. "Blessed be, Lithasblot!" they said as they strung lights around the hedges and threw a sprinkling of stones which burst, expelling flowers across the ground. A delicate lilac landed in Ellie's palm.

Frigga was wiping the petals off of her expensive gown. She met Ellie's harrowing gaze and smiled. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" The human tried to figure out if the Queen was giving her a hidden message, but she decided nothing. There was too much on her mind to concentrate. She expected a quick drop-in and felt as if she was having information shoved into her, already full, brain.

* * *

That afternoon, the hunt was afoot.

Most of the warriors took a horse, but Ellie decided the journey was better on foot. Also, she didn't know how to attempt to get on top of one. She followed Lounn's lead as they travelled east, out of the gates and into Jorth Forest.

Many hunts were taking place that day. Ellie heard rumours of a royal hunting event taking place nearby where the Allfather and his sons rode across the North Mountains in search of a stag. It was all for the Lithasblot feast. Ellie was spending the evening in the barracks, celebrating with the warriors.

"I hope I catch it," Lounn pulled his arm up, steadying his blade. He then closed his eyes and prayed. "Goddess Jorth, give me your blessing to capture a boar from your enchanted forest."

Ellie shook her head, smiling. "You won't catch it if you keep babbling." The sunlight filtered through the spruce leaves, dappling her with lacy shadows. Lounn gave her a gentle shove. They entered the depths of the forest, picking up the distant clatter of other hunters. The protector of the forest would not be in their favour either.

Despite Ellie never meeting Jorth, she heard stories about hunters who offered no respect. They usually ended up dead in one of the glens or hanging by their ankles from a tree. As Ellie passed a spruce, she ran her fingers over the moss. "Blessed be your forest, Jorth," she said.

Asgard seemed to be flourishing that day. It was bright, fresh and beautiful. The air was crisp, clearing Ellie's head. She tried not to think about her meeting with the Queen Mother, but it was undeniable that she had changed.

"Stromkarls," Lounn said, extending a hand to point at a merry band of fairies fluttering around a tree. "They're good with babies."

"How would you know that?" Ellie said, poking him in the middle. "Had much help from them?" With a scoff, he pushed her away.

"Unlike you, I actually paid attention to my professors." They clambered over a rotten log, patterned with toadstools. "Which is why I don't ask as many questions as you do."

"If my voice is too grating, I could carve out your ears."

The rhythmic shouts of hunters echoed to their right. The stromkarls scattered, darting into the trees with a squeal. A piercing shout sparked Ellie's ears, drawing her attention to a ginormous boar hurtling towards them. The rattle of snapping twigs set her on edge. Lounn cursed loudly.

The beast grunted heavily. Behind it, half a dozen hunters burst through the bushes with their spears raised. Ellie clutched her dagger, its hilt wasn't as harsh on her blistered hands as a sword.

Inhaling, she lost control of the next few moments. Her brain hurt and she wanted to expel every thought of Niamh Chinn Òir, Aelfred and wolves from her mind. The boar hurtled into her and she used a hand to shove its tusk aside. Wrapping her arm around its neck, she stabbed it quickly. The squealing carried into an inhumane pitch, piercing Ellie's ears as she dragged its heavy body closer. She toppled back and thrust her dagger harder into it. A fine spray of bloody flicked across her trousers.

The squeal abruptly stopped. Ellie glanced at Lounn who was staring at her, trying to communicate something. "What, I, uh, Jorth, I thank thee for this boar," she stuttered. Her companion exhaled and nodded, his eyes holding a thousand words.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Ellie wretched. She clamped a hand over her mouth. The other hunters wasted no time in checking her kill, circling her and pulling the heavy animal off. A nod of mourning was exchanged as they thanked Jorth for their blessing. Then, they erupted into cheer.

"What is your name, little warrior?" one asked.

Still in shock, she couldn't quite manage an answer. Lounn touched her shoulder. "It's Eurelia," he said, "her family are vegetarians."

"Eurelia!" they cheered, hoisting the boar in the air. "We will sing your praise. To the palace!"

Her gaze met Lounn's as he watched the men thunder back to the palace. He asked if she was okay. Ellie shook her head mutely. Then, he took her arm and pulled her to her feet, watching and challenging her to protest any movement. She gave a small nod.

"Killing for food is a bit different to monsters, isn't it?" he said, his voice quiet in the dense forest.

"Gordon Bennet," she replied, her voice hoarse. "That was horrible. It was so scared."

Ellie could've given it a better death, a cleaner one. She didn't have to hold it and then push her dagger into its throat. It should've been better. Another squeal echoed behind them. And another. Cheers of Norse delight soon followed.

Clenching her fist, Ellie pushed the words out of her lips. "Better taste good." Her companion laughed. The air around them felt calmer. Together, they trudged back into the main city and up to the palace. The guards, usually stern and unemotional, were dealing with children throwing flowers on their golden armour. One tilted his head, making it easier for a flower crown to be placed on him.

The children _oooed_ and _aahed_ at the sight of fresh boar, stag and fish. Ellie spotted the hunters carrying her kill and almost felt pride filling her.

The entrance was decked with maple garlands, lanterns and sunflowers, and a slightly sweet, herbaceous essence swam out of the palace, mingled with the firepit smoke and meat. Dozens of Asgardians entered, left and stood inside the entrance hall. They were in scattered groups, wearing wheat necklaces or broaches. Mostly, their attire was orange.

Ellie glanced down at her red stained overshirt and thought that, that was good enough for her. A few of their accomplices approached them with goblets. Ellie recognised several others as they entered the throne room, now made into a feast hall for Asgard. Tamra was the only one who approached her, beckoning her with a friendly smile. She squeezed her arm gently, placing a palm against her cheek and let her on her way.

Ellie reached the centre of the hall where several fires had been lit. Spit-roasted boar was on each other, turning and crisping as the moments passed by. There was an organised excitement about the room as guests filled in and the songs began. Chanters were already trilling around the room. "Blessed be, Lithasblot," they said, passing loaves of bread out.

Ellie accepted the one placed in her hands, nodding in reply to the, "blessed be, Lithasblot."

The bread was especially made. It was known as lammas and printed the rune of bountiful harvest. Seeds dotted the crust. They cracked deliciously in her mouth. Naeva appeared with a loaf in the shape of a sunwheel, although hers was mostly mush in her mouth.

"Tasty, ain't it?" she said, spitting bread out.

"I want some of that boar," Ellie said, pointing towards a firepit. The hunters caught her eye.

"Eurelia!" they cheered, knocking their goblets merrily against one another. A smirk grew up her face.

Ellie pushed her goblet to her mouth and chugged the remnants of her ale. The warriors were glancing at one another, half-heartedly questioning their musical skills. Lounn eyed her and suddenly gave her a painful shove. She stumbled forwards and the warriors erupted into cheer. She hadn't had enough alcohol to supress the heat rising onto her cheeks.

She took a seat on the table, looking up at Tyr as he beat his goat-skin drum. A man began to play the tagelharpa. Several lurs appeared and there was as well as a panpipe. Smooth trumpet-like sounds blossomed around her. Despite her strength, hearing and Norse knowledge, Ellie's singing voice was as crackly and terrible as it had always been. She could not carry a tune and remembered being scolded for ruining the choir during Sunday mass. Thankfully, Asgardian singing was not always elegant, it was rough.

Malai appeared beside her, shoving a drum into her hands. The woman's stern features were icy, but fierce with honour. Ellie hesitantly tapped her fingers against the skin, feeling like an idiot.

"With passion," Malai said, hitting the drum for her. Ellie swallowed and hit it again. In return, Malai nodded and took a seat beside her. Peculiarly, Ellie's body relaxed. She beat her drum alongside Tyr as a murmur rippled through the hall.

He began the hymn. His voice was raw. A thousand years of history flashed through the room, calling attention to the ancestors. Ellie felt the importance of harvest-time in his words. The hymn was a rendition of a funeral song; it taught its listeners that they should be grateful for growth and the blessing of life.

_Kven skal synge meg  
I daudsveevna slynge meg_

Closing her eyes, Ellie's pronunciation had always been rusty, but she exhumed the Norwegian as best as she could. "Når eg helvegen går," she hummed, "Og dei spora eg trår."

The Asgardians dressed heartily and passionately, never stumbling or missing a step. They stomped to the drumbeat, moving with the spirits of their songs. Hundreds of well-dressed guests intertwined with one another, laughing and filling their bellies with the goods of harvest. Many Asgardians were filled with ale and continued to guzzle it down. Ale was made with barley and wheat; another harvest prize.

A servant placed a wheat crown on Ellie's head as the song finished. She touched it hesitantly and toothily smiled, feeling very much like one of the guests. She slid off the table and met Malai's gaze.

"Blessed be, Lithasblot," she said.

Malai raised her goblet and drank.

Of all the guests, the Allfather was not one. They waited patiently for his entrance which came quickly. In time for the plating up of the wild boar.

A drum sounded, calling attention to Odin as he entered the hall. His bronze armour shone richly. A copper crown sat atop his head, imprinted with numerous runes. The instrumentalists continued, introducing a flute as Frigga fluttered in.

The lute rose to a fervent pitch, reaching a sound both blaring and overwhelming. In the roar of the hall, Loki and Thor Odison stepped out of an archway behind the throne and strode to stand beside the Allfather. They were regal, making no effort to appear humble, but they did not flaunt their royal blood. They were simply splendid in their matching amber doublets, heavily laced with white flowers, black buttons and cape. No braids were intertwined in their hair and there was a brass rune over their hearts. It was the rune of harvest.

Ellie clapped alongside the hall, raising her arms and shouting a hail. Odin raised a hand and returned their praise.

"Blessed be, Lithasblot!"

"Blessed be, Lithasblot!" the hall roared. Naeva shivered beside her.

Odin followed with a purely Norse speech. He called for the harvest Gods to provide another year of plenty. With great cheer, he ripped a boar's leg off and tore a piece out with his teeth. Never did Ellie guess he would be so mundanely human, but his grin of delight made her laugh. She followed his actions by accepting a slice of boar and chewing it with the same smile.

Her kill was definitely worth it.

Naeva held her bread testily. "Should I give the prince some lammas?"

"He's the prince," Ellie said, swallowing her food. "I'm sure he has enough from everyone else."

"But I'm not everyone else."

"No. You're you. Which is an even better reason not to attempt to seduce the prince. Especially with bloody bread."

"Careful," Naeva muttered. "You wouldn't enjoy my company if I were angry."

"Implied that I enjoyed it before."

The rhythmic singers drowned out Naeva's string of sarcastic insults. She rolled her eyes and clutched her lamas to her breast. Ellie caught the smirk on her lips and could not stop her own smile reciprocating. They shared a heated look which Naeva took with her over to the son of Odin.

Lounn took another goblet from a servant. He wasn't stunned by Naeva, but he was disappointed. Ellie flickered a sympathetic gaze over him.

"Maybe next time," she took a bite of lammas. Debatably, she wondered whether she should put the boar between two slices of lammas and recreate a Midgardian sandwich.

"Jealous? It's everyone's' hearts' desire to bed a prince."

"That's slightly unsettling. He's just a man."

"Would you really push a prince's advances away?"

Ellie lowered her goblet, shooting him a disgusted glared. "You'll have to excuse my Freudian slip, but I will take out your innards," she prodded Lounn with a corner of lammas.

His grin widened. "A Freudian slip?"

Nodding, she struggled to surprise the delight it gave her. She knew something as Asgardian did not. There was no way of him connecting Freud to a Midgardian philosopher. "It's where you unintentionally reveal how you truly feel."

"Secretly, you're blood-thirsty," he levelled. "Gods, I didn't know you were a draugr."

With a snort, Ellie slid her blade against his. The sparkling noise was like a songbird in her ear. "You caught me. I love sucking the blood of my victims and eating them."

"No, no. Let me tell you what you really are," Lounn whispered, leaning towards her. Ale lingered in the space between them. Ellie lifted a piece of lammas to her mouth. She was unprepared for his next sentence and could only stare at him beneath the torchlight as if he'd grown seven heads.

"You're human."

* * *

**References**

_Helvegen by Wardruna_ – a beautiful Norwegian song which is uses a stanza from the Hávamál poem: " Cattle die, kinsmen die, You yourself will also die, but the word about you will never die, if you win a good reputation. Cattle die, kinsmen die, You yourself will also die, I know one that never dies: the judgement of those who died." – I thoroughly recommend the version with Aurora singing alongside Wardruna.

_Lithasblot__ – _a Norse/Pagan festival which celebrates the harvest and Autumn. They eat lammas bread, fruit, vegetables and crops!

_Jorth Forest_ – Jörð is the personification of Earth in Norse mythology. I figured she would a beautiful forest goddess for this fanfiction.


	23. The Fire Within

_Caution: contains assault and foul language_

* * *

Worship of the Gods

_I had a dream,  
I got everything I wanted  
Not what you think  
and if I'm being honest  
it might've been a nightmare_

– Billie Eilish, Everything I wanted

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Fire Within

There was a beat of time where the light-heartedness of their conversation continued. And then he realised what he had said. "I wasn't going to tell anyone," he stuttered. Ellie placed her goblet down and took a step back, staring at him fearfully. "Ellie," he said again.

She shook her head. "N-no. How do you know?"

"You're my… friend. You ask these questions and feel so much… emotion. Emotion Aesir aren't capable of feeling. I just…"

"I have to go," she said. He lurched forward and grabbed her arm, startling her. "Let go of me!"

Lounn released her as if her skin were burning coals. He looked sick. It made Ellie want to _be_ sick. Turning on her heel, she fled the feast hall and ran down a corridor. There was a faint shouting behind her which encouraged her to begin sprinting.

Ellie came to a corner and smacked into a group novice warriors. She couldn't really say she was in the lowest band of trainees anymore. New recruits had flooded in just last week and they liked to watch Ellie's group practising. It gave her a sense of pride. Still, she did not know them and was not inclined to begin new friendships.

She whirled immediately. Several hands reached for her, stopping her still in the flickering corridor.

"Watch where ye going, petal?" one leaned close, his hand wrapped around her arm. His friend slid against her side; his bodice covered in vomit. The flowers atop his hair were drooping and mushy. "Shall we harvest my lineage?" he said against her ear.

"_Ne skeifr drpr munni ne svinhqfdi_," she spat, shoving them both away. Surprisingly, they stumbled back. They should've known better than to approach a better-trained warrior. (I will cleave your lying maggot mouth from your swine head).

"Bitter words," one said. "Give us a taste of the flower and we'll be on our way."

Another shape emerged behind them. "Taste my boot when I kick your teeth in," she stepped back and clenched her firsts. Lounn's figure protested in Norse, pushing through the men. It was a short exchange which reminded Ellie of snarling wolves.

"Leave me alone-" Ellie began and quick footsteps echoed behind her. She wheeled around, preparing to hit whoever it was. Loki Odinson's presence frightened all of Ellie's unwarranted company. The prince loomed beside Ellie like a beast controlling inferior creatures. The novices were flushed as they nodded and scarpered back down the corridor. Lounn hesitated, glancing between the prince and Ellie.

"Please-" he started.

"Go," Loki said.

Ellie's heart ached watching Lounn turn on his heel and disappear into the palace. He looked distraught but it was an issue she didn't want to deal with until tomorrow. "He knows," she stared after him. "He knows what I am."

The prince cast a glance back through the archway. "So, you result to fleeing," he stated. Ellie clenched her teeth but was at a loss for words. She hung her head, feeling drained. "Why did you follow me?"

"Human emotion leaks out of you." The prince uncomfortably expelled the waves of despair rolling out of her. They attempted to seep into his pores. With gritted teeth, he turned away. "Meet me at dawn by the Eastern gates," he said. "And try not to succumb to the arousal of common folk again." With not much further thought, he stalked back into the feast hall and into the arms of a heavenly Aesir guest who'd been eyeing him all night.

* * *

Ellie watched the sun rise and kiss her skin in speckles of gold. She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing outside the Eastern gates, but she had an exhausted feeling that she hadn't slept much at all. In fact, she had no recollection of returning to the barracks at all.

There was a tingling sensation in her fingertips, probably from the ale and shock of Lounn's words. Now she was calm, she was willing to explain herself. Unless he was frightened to death of her now and had already blabbered everything to Gustav and Vidar. A part of her felt that Lounn was true and good; he wouldn't say a word.

Ellie chewed her forefinger's nail. A shadow leered out of the gates, catching her attention. He was a rickety, hunched man with a crooked walking-stick. She diverted her gaze and twiddled her thumbs. The man hobbled forwards, suffering with a clear breathing issue. He coughed.

"Morning, little petal."

Ellie gave him an awkward smile.

"Blessed be, Lithasblot," he leered. "Fancy a trip into the woods?"

"I'm actually waiting for someone."

"You could come with me."

"I really can't. Sorry, I have to wait here."

The man sneered, tapping the ground with his stick. "Come with me. I am all you need."

With a snort, Ellie crossed her arms. "Mate, I have no idea who you are. I'm not going anywhere."

"Surely, I taught you to obey me, Eurelia."

"If you don't-" she began and stopped, her fist mid-clench. Her muscles relaxed and she stared at the eyes of the old man. They were crystal blue. "Loki?" The man's thin lips tilted up. It wasn't just his eyes, but his voice. Of course, this man had a different one, but the prince always pronounced her name in the same manner. It was alluring; the word would creep down her ear and wrap around her soul.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't turn up as a great beast since you love frightening me."

"On occasion," he said. "Don't tempt me."

"You're the God of Tricks, shouldn't you be tempting me?"

"Have I not by asking you to meet me at dawn?" with a wink, he started towards the forest at an alarmingly slow speed. A sly grin danced in his features as he doddered beside Ellie. The slow walk was torturous for her. Several times Loki slipped and cackled like a delusional semi-sane grandfather. By the time they reached a wooden bridge on the edge of the woodland, a pot-bellied man stood waiting for them.

"You can't get through here," he chided. "This woodland belongs to me. If you want in, you gotta pay."

Ellie reached for her coin pouch just as Loki began talking. "How much?" he asked. The farmer's face brightened.

"My usual rate: 10 gold. For a young thing like you: six gold coins," he said, crossing his arms. He tilted his head upwards, watching Ellie and Loki over his nose. Ellie's temper flared and she was about to tell him to stick the money where the sun didn't shine. Her and Loki would find another way round; he was always boasting about his secret tunnels.

"Thank you, good sir," the farmer said as Loki placed a number of gold coins into his hands. There was far more than six. "Kind sir," the farmer drawled, not bothering to hide his giddiness. "Careful in there. Lots of thieves lurking."

"I'll say," Ellie said icily, continuing past the farmer with Loki. When they were out of earshot, she looked at him in disbelief. "Why did you give him all of your money? We could've – haggled or told him to push off!

"Perhaps," Loki shrugged.

"What? Why didn't we?"

"Eurelia, there's two things you waste your breath on; talking to idiots and talking about idiots." Loki smirked knowingly and took his hand out from under his cloak. In his palm sat a bounty of glistening coins. Ellie gasped.

"You stole his purse?" she said incredulously.

"Of course I didn't. Do you believe the son of Odin is a common thief?" Loki pocketed the coins, they jingled in his leather pouch.

"Magic. You made him see coins which weren't really there." Ellie's eyes widened. She reached a hand out and grabbed his ratty tunic. "Show me," she said, "please." Loki gladly obliged, unable to stop the need to inspire awe.

His skin was wrinkled and covered in sunspots as he took the pouch out. Ellie held out a hand expectedly and Loki placed a couple of coins in her palm. They were cold and heavy, engraved with a rune. She moved her hand, testing the weightiness. "They feel real," she said, looking up at him.

There was a glint in his eye, "how can we say anything is real at all?" Ellie laughed, staring after him as he continued down the woodland path, slightly faster. The charade was clearly tedious for him.

Out of the sight of the conman, Loki transformed into his own figure. The stout man stretched into the lithe, young prince wearing a puff-sleeved tunic and matching trousers. Ellie caught up and handed the coins back to him.

His smooth fingers enclosed around the money and then he flung them forwards. Ellie gasped, a curse forming on her lips. Suddenly, the coins burst into a dozen butterflies.

"Gods!" she cried, rushing forwards and stretching a hand up. Her sleeve fell passed her elbow, exposing her rosary. It glinted in the sunlight. Ellie wrapped a hand around her wrist and held it to her chest, meeting Loki's gaze.

"Our Gods are your Gods, or don't you recall?" he said, brushing past.

It had been several days since her last prayer. Weekdays didn't exist on Asgard so Ellie lost track of Sundays. She tried to tell herself that training, festivities and magic had been too time-consuming. However, the argument fizzled in her mind because she knew the truth was, she had forgotten.

_Heavenly Father, I am… I am so sorry. _

Ellie squeezed her eyes tightly and took off after the son of the Allfather.

He had reached the edge of a great hill and stopped. Ellie stood beside him; her wrist held to her chest. Hundreds of miles of farmland lay before them, woven with greens, yellows and amber. Six-legged cattle, horned goats and glistening sheep lazily mowed through the field below. Their bleats were soothing. It was so peaceful and similar to the Welsh countryside that Ellie felt tempted to close her eyes and imagine she was on one of the few trips the nuns allowed them on.

A calf whined and darted towards its mother. Her lips turned up at the maternal softness found across the universe.

With warning, Loki whipped an arm out and thrust a burning ball of fire into the air. The heat burst, hurting Ellie's face. She stepped back, startled and stared at him.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"Save them," he cast a look down at the unaware farm animals. "Or I will drop this and burn them all."

Ellie held a hand up, hurriedly levelling with the prince. Her eyes were bold and large as she looked between him and the fire. She channelled her energy, pushing it out of her heart and into her limb.

"Take ahold of it," Loki ordered. "I will let go now."

Ellie cried out and took hold of the fire. It sent a burst of agony through her, consuming every particle. Another pained noise emerged out of her mouth. Her hand was shaking and the fire was spitting mid-air.

"I can't do it. I can't, I can't do it," she repeated, her voice shaking

"Look at me," Loki ordered. Ellie lifted her eyes slowly; his form was a blur.

She was sweating through her garments as she struggled to control the fire. It was draining her strength, feeling like a string was attached to each nerve and pulling her in one thousand different directions. Loki raised a hand and stretched his fingers to mirror her.

"Breathe," he said. Ellie let out a sob. "Breathe, Eurelia. Inhale. Exhale."

She fought to follow his commands. Loki repeated himself twice; giving her time to follow. She swore she caught his fingers flex and the air suddenly feel clean. It made it easier when there was no more ash to coat her throat. The stench of smoke disappeared had also disappeared.

"Good," said Loki. "Now, close your eyes."

"But–"

"Close your eyes, Eurelia."

She did so. It became more difficult to control the flames. Gasping, she stumbled back and scrunched her face up. "I can't!"

Loki watched her carefully. He had already noted the inches of her posture; the rigidity of her body and tainted storage of energy. "You can," he pressed. "Breathe and forget the agony. Feel the _creature_ inside of you."

Exhaling, Ellie thought of her fingertips and then her wrists. She followed an image of her body until she reached her collar and was envisioning the skin of her thorax. Loki's voice came again, telling her how it was a wave that crashed against the shore of her ribs. If she focused, she could feel the water kissing her insides. It was not there to cause pain, but to heal.

Ellie's face softened. She breathed.

Water flooded her veins, splashing around the curve of her elbow and reaching the dead-end of her fingers. It caused her shiver. She felt the burning extinguish.

The fire crumpled, curling in on itself. It crackled loudly, startling the farm animals. They scattered in different directions as the flames roared above. Ellie thrust her other hand out, channelling every inch of energy out of her fingertips.

In her mind, the red-hot flames shrunk like a crisp packet in a microwave. They finally slammed together as a ball which fell to the ground as a freezing, rock-solid chunk of ash. Opening her eyes, she found Loki watching her intensely. His gaze slid down to the ground.

A goat sniffed the ash and bleated. The world adjusted back to normality as the birds chirped and the breeze swished through the trees once more.

Ellie exhaled, taking a step back. To her delight, she felt energy coursing through her. She smiled widely, flashing teeth.

"Again?" the prince said.

* * *

Ellie and Loki parted at the outskirts of Asgard's lowertown. Him as a hobbling, old man and Ellie enthralled with excitement. The Völva's home was hidden down a maze of narrow alleys, which were heaving with rats and vermin. Ellie stepped over a toad the size of her torso and continued on her way. She reached the slanted door of the Seer.

As she raised a hand to knock, the door opened and the Völva was looking up at her. Well, he was facing her. Whether or not he could see behind the skin that covered his eyes was a question Ellie didn't want to ask.

"Lovely to see you in the flesh," he drawled, his voice like nails on a chalkboard.

"It has been a while since we saw one another, yes." Bending her head as she entered, her nose met the overpowering stench of dried flowers and rich perfume. It surrounded her and she swore the air was tainted purple from the odours. Was there a type of magic to repel pungent stenches?

"Well," the Völva laughed as he led her down an uneven hallway, the ceiling was too low for Ellie. "I have been seeing you quite often. You have been playing with fire, haven't you?" Tapping his head with a long finger, he continued to giggle.

"Right," she scoffed. "Do you watch me when I bathe too?"

The Völva reached for the rusty handle of a door. It opened with a groan and then several tinkles which sounded like hanging trinkets clanging against the wood. Another wave of smells hit her; ones of rose and lavender, a hint of coriander. As Ellie joined him in the room, he was already sat down.

The walls were covered in carpets and rugs with streams of scarves looping around and up and down. An assortment of bangles, bracelets and necklaces were pinned up. They glistened in the candlelight. Cushions littered the floor, making it difficult for Ellie to be sophisticated. She stumbled over a velvet one and ending up just sinking to the floor opposite the Völva.

She kept him at arm's reach.

"Ask me a question, Eurelia," he said distantly, tilting his head up and exposing a row of rotten teeth.

"It's not really a question. I want information," Ellie said. "I want to know about Niamh Chinn Òir."

Grinning ear-to-ear, the Völva leaned forwards and eagerly waited for Ellie to continue. She hesitated. "She was murdered, wasn't she?" Ellie watched the rotting man tilt his head as if her words delighted him. She sensed that the answers she was seeking would not give her peace. "Tell me why there is so much secrecy surrounding this woman."

"Niamh Chinn Òir, a vast subject to tell thee about," murmured the Völva. Ellie could not pull her eyes away; a need inside of her chest desired his guidance. "The only child born of Aesir and Light-Elf blood."

"So, she's Freyr's daughter, isn't she?"

The Völva held a withering hand out. Ellie ran her tongue along his palm, distinctly tasting salt and lilac. She shivered and reclined in her seat.

The seer sniffed, much like a dog would when fresh meat was being cooked. "Gods are animalistic. Yes, Freyr's daughter is the woman you ask of."

"What has she got to do with the stone?"

The Völva drooled, "that's what you were getting to, wasn't it? No one just wants to know about the rotting corpse of someone for nothing, do they?" Ellie steadily watched him. "The stone absorbs the life-force of the Ljósálfar. They were betrayed and the stone was stolen. Niamh Chinn attempted to take the stone. A fatal attempt, it was."

The pain Freyr must have felt in moving on was unimaginable. He was a strong leader and gave no mention of this woman. Heartbreak could be fatal to Elves which explained his new wife and half a dozen children.

Ellie nearly laughed, feeling ridiculous. "Is there a chance she's my mother?"

The völva cackled and his voice protruded from his mouth like a broken violin. "Take a bite and find out."

Ellie clenched her teeth, feeling her dry tongue rub against the roof of her mouth. "A bite of what… exactly?" she shook, fighting the desire to swear.

"Home isn't leaking walls, a cupboard of nails, a whipping stick or prayer," he said. Ellie exhaled shakily. "It's flesh, blood and bone."

"Take… a… bite," he snapped his jaw together with a clack. Ellie stood up quickly and backed away. The Völva continued clacking his jaw like a skeleton from a horror movie. His black teeth oozed with sludge which leaked down his chin. "I just have to say that I am so sorry."

Ellie took another step back. "Sorry for what?"

"For the loss that was and the loss that is to come."

"Loss?"

"It will happen three times," taking a dried piece of fruit from his necklace, he bit into it. The crackle and crunch stung her ears. Bits of red snapped across the room. Ellie shook her head in disgust.

She burst out of the front door, gagging on lilac.

* * *

**References**

_Niamh Chinn Óir_ – meaning Niamh of the Golden Hair is an otherworldly woman from the Irish Fenian Cycle.


	24. The Western Forest Trial

Worship of the Gods

_In the hero stories, the call to go  
on a journey takes the form of a loss,  
an error, a wound, an unexplainable longing,  
or a sense of a mission.  
When any of these happens to us,  
we are being summoned to make a transition.  
It will always mean leaving something behind.  
**The paradox here is that loss is a path to gain.**_

– David Richo

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Western Forest Trial

**Ten Days Later  
The Western Forests of Asgard**

Ellie's knuckles were white around the reins of her horse. She stared at Naeva in alarm, not daring to move an inch. Horses were intelligent creatures; they sensed fear. It clopped gently beneath Ellie. With eight legs, the clops felt thunderous and very unsettling on her thighs.

"Naeva, please can we share one," Ellie asked again. "John doesn't like me."

"His _name_ is Jarl," she said, rocking gently on her own mare. "After the disaster it was getting you on him, I'd rather not deal with the fuss of getting you on mine."

"Jarl doesn't like me, then," she hissed. He quickened his pace with the group, startling Ellie. "Oh, God."

The Western forests of Asgard were a snaking maze of paths, and hills, and mountains. They were mainly bustling with recreational activities or woodland festivals. And as stromkarls and other creatures took residence, it was a rare opportunity for warriors to train in the area. That morning, they were heading towards the Northern Mountains. Rumour had it that Tyr was planning an ambush for them. The suspense as well as Jarl's flouncy movements unsettled Ellie's stomach.

Her wandering gaze landed on the back of Lounn's head. He hadn't spoken to her in days, mainly because she avoided him at dinner and breakfast. Ultimately, it was her choosing not to speak to him. She clenched her fingers around the reins.

"Tsk, Tsk," Naeva clucked beside Ellie. It walked faster, pulling up alongside Jarl. Ellie attempted to mimic the noise, but it was stuck on the back of her throat as an ugly gargle. She coughed and choked.

Lounn turned around and shot her an amused look. She nearly smiled, but the happiness shrivelled up inside of her stomach.

Jarl dropped back. For a quatermile, she focused on the rocking of her horse. Her ears picked up the noises of the forest. A herd or sorts were trudging just a short distance from them. They stopped several times to graze before wandering out of earshot. Another creature rustled in the bushes. From the musky stench, it was a wild boar. Not one to be eaten, that time.

Just as the group galloped over a rickety bridge,

At a signal, Tyr released a cry, and the other captains dropped back, while two warriors spurred up and galloped into the mist. There was a blood-curdling shriek on Ellie's left, and the horse reared. Ellie gripped its reins and swore. The entire group began racing forwards, galloping through the dense trees, half-shouting and bellowing orders.

Jarl shuddered beneath her, flying down the path. A tree groaned and split in half. Ellie ducked, missing it by inches. Voices cried out and horses screeched in alarm. Ellie had no time or chance of looking back. She clutched the pommel with one hand as one of her feet ripped out of the stirrup iron.

The horse reared, frightened by something in the forest. Ellie lurched and with an undignified grunt was thrown from Jarl and into a bush. She rolled thrice, panting and choking until she landed in a heap, staring up at the canopy in a daze. The thunder of hoofs shook the ground beneath her. Jarl was bolting back into the inner city; freaked and confused. She wished she could say the same, but she was more annoyed than anything.

With a groan, she got to her feet.

A dull ache throbbed in her rib. She rubbed a hand over her side as she looked at the trees. Something was waiting in there. Tyr hadn't warned them what it would be; but it definitely wasn't a warg or draugr.

She held her breath.

They burst through the treeline like a colony of green mucus. Instead of brown bark, their black armour scattered across the horizon until there were no bushes or plants, but them. "Goblins?" Ellie shrieked. "Oh, my fuck."

Turning, she scrambled up the hill. She clawed at the mud and earth, ripping roots until she threw herself up onto the path. The scene was a chaotic mess. Soldiers battled relentlessly either side of her, hacking and slicing as many goblins as possible. Horses were crying out in fright, speeding past her.

A goblin jumped onto Ellie's back. She screeched and ripped its skinny arms out, falling backwards. The goblin squealed and released her immediately. As she clambered onto her knees, her fingers wrapped around her sword. She turned and sliced it through the goblin's middle, releasing its innards into a mushy, bloody pool at her feet.

Another goblin emerged behind its collapsing body. It screamed at her, revealing a mouth of black teeth. Ellie gripped her sword and slashed it across the face, throwing its entire form sideways. Holding her side, she sprinted towards the Northern Mountains. One of the creatures barrelled into her side, knocking her off balance.

They struggled. Ellie gripped the top of its head, digging her nails into its slimy skin. Her hand shook as she pulled it back, her eyes taking in the up-close ugliness of it. A stench swam up her nose.

"You smell like shit," she spat and wrenched its body away from her, stabbing its side with her weapon. Gustav appeared as he fell into Ellie. She was winded for a moment and stared up at him furiously. "What are you doing?"

"Get up!" he grabbed her arm, wrenching her upright. She froze momentarily as a hoard of goblins took over the path and started towards them. And then she was sprinting alongside Gustav.

Just ahead, the rest of their group were fighting off the odd goblin which emerged from the woods. When they spotted the hoard, they took off. Ellie leapt over a carcass and stumbled slightly but managed to keep up with Gustav. A bright archway welcomed them into a wide clearing, half a mile from the base of the mountains.

Lounn nearly smacked into Ellie's chest. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a fierce embrace. "I'm sorry!" he cried.

Ellie spluttered. "What for?"

"Behind you!" a voice called. Ellie turned and her sword met the thin dagger of a goblin. It swished and swiped at each of her blows. The rest of the pack attacked her group and soon, she was back-to-back with Lounn.

"Ellie!" he said, "I really am sorry!"

"What?" her sword tore through the throat of a goblin.

"I have to say that-" he grunted and kicked a goblin's gut. "I don't care!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean-" Lounn struggled_,_ "-you're my friend!"

"Lounn!" Ellie said. "Now really isn't the time!"

He turned at the same time she did. Their gazes met and she saw his anguish. He apologised again, his voice strained and cracked. "I forgive you," Ellie profusely said. "I forgive you, okay? Should I be the one saying sorry?"

"No," he thrust his sword into another goblin. "Never. I trust you with my life. I will never say a word." Ellie smiled for a split moment and then growled at a creature preparing to jump onto Lounn's unprotected back. She darted towards it and shoved her blade into his chest, her face inches from it.

"As I do with you," she said breathlessly, returning to him. "My friend."

"Come on, we're not on a fucking picnic!" Tyr shouted. He was sat atop his horse, watching the chaos around him. His stead did not flinch or rear up in fear. It was trained for blood-shed and war. Or it was traumatically desensitised.

Either way, it was the only horse left.

Ellie huddled alongside the other soldiers; her sword posed. She felt almost animalist as she stared at the approaching goblins. They were filthy, stinking creatures. Neither feminine nor masculine, it was hard to resonate any similarities with human or Aesir bodies. She could only guess they crawled out of the bowls of a sewer to stain the world.

"To the mountain base!" someone cried. Ellie cast a quick glance towards it and began heading towards it, slowing backing up with her sword posed. The goblins sprinted towards them and she hacked at their onslaught with a grunt.

Lounn was superb as he fought beside her. They swiped and slashed in unison, having one another's backs as they reached the final strip of woodland. Tyr was galloping away, waving his axe gleefully. It would've been comical, except it distracted Ellie long enough for a goblin to jump onto her chest. She caught its side with her blade, and it leapt off.

Ellie stumbled. It swiped its claws at her, catching her arm. She hissed and gripped it for a moment before filling with anger and hacking her sword into its side. Wincing, she took off after the group and burst out of the treeline.

The gurgle of goblins echoed behind her. Sweat beaded her forehead and she fell into Lounn's side, breathing heavily. When she turned, ready to attack again, she found there was nothing in sight. She looked at Tyr expectedly and found he had his back to the forest and was watching them amusedly.

"Where did they go?" she asked.

Vidar frowned. "Are they even real? Or an illusion?"

Ellie pulled her slightly bloodied hand away from her arm. "One caught my arm," she muttered in Lounn's ear. "Felt fucking real,"

"They're real. I assigned them to the middle of the forest for this trial. I expected your horses to bolt and most of you to do the same. But I'm mildly surprised." He strutted past them; a thick brow raised. "_Mildly_. The cowards I'll see to later. You'll be safe here; able to rest tonight," he said, casting a dark look over the group. "Or shall I say: you rest tonight. I'm sleeping in the arms of a woman, I think. Yes, I think so."

Gustav stepped forwards. "What of us?"

"Takes about a day to travel back to the inner city by foot. Make it back and you'll let your balls see the Ether Celebration tomorrow night," Tyr waved his axe like a festive banner and disappeared into the forest. They could hear their cackle for several minutes and then the silence descended.

A murmur rippled over the group. Ellie turned around and looked at each of them, slightly lost. Her brief survival training kicked in and she pushed through them. Grabbing a piece of firewood and ripping some cloth from her tunic, she began clumping dead leaves and dry flowers into a pile.

"I'm fucking starving," Ajun complained. He stomped into the edge of the woods and clambered up a tree. There was a terrible squealing and a slice. He reappeared with a fat, squirrel-esque carcass.

Ellie blew the smoking pile. She stared at it and pushed an aggressive exhale of energy into it. A flame blossomed.

"Beautiful work," Ajun admired, slumping down next to her. She stared at him and inched slightly away. He stripped the creature and skewered it over the flames.

The act of settling down for the night was a slow one. It was dangerous entering the forest again as there was no way of telling where the middle was exactly. There was a ruckus of tree climbing, squirrel hunting and fire-making before small groups sat and began softly chatting between each other.

Ellie handed a strip of meat to Lounn who munched on it pleasantly.

"Well, if we are stuck with one another. Then I propose a tale!" Vidar sprung suddenly, drunk on juicy meat and adrenaline from their day. The group replied with an encouraging mutter. "A tale of what, however?" In response were a cheer of: Asgard! Yggdrasil! And Goblins!

Vidar took to his feet. "Asgard it is! Who will tell this tale of glorious conception?"

"Vidar!" someone urged.

"Vidar!" Ellie echoed, clapping her hands. "You tell the story!"

The group roared in unison and Vidar bowed his head gratefully. With a blushing nod, he headed towards the cliff face and fiddled with the firepits until they roared, illuminating his shadow against the grey rock. He practised some shapes with his fingers, earning a laugh from his audience.

Studying his ginormous shadow, a part of Ellie wished she could see a real giant, ferocious and thundering against the minute nature of Aesir. She figured that anything was possible and perhaps she would see a real giant in her new life.

Vidar began. "In the beginning was the void. Matter grew in this void. Matter formed stars. Stars formed planets and after one planet left the womb of the sun, it grew a biosphere which seethed with potential. This planet was Midgard."

Ellie stared up at him in wonder, hanging onto his words.

"Its oceans, which once bubbled, cooled and craggy rock rose above the water. It was a crackling world of life and energy. Until the energy itself became aware of its own potency!" he suddenly thrust his hands animatedly.

"Demiurge!" someone cried. Several murmured in agreement.

Vidar nodded. "The Demiurge was a sentient life-force. One of the first in the entire universe! It grew above Midgard. It was a cataclysmic face on a celestial canvas. And then…" he slowed and burst with excitement. "It exploded and showered Midgard with sparks of its own life. The inchoate soil. The primeval mud was rippling with energy.

From this energy the Elder Gods sprang from the ground like seedlings. Beings like Chton!"

Malai cheered: "Gaea." And someone nearby called out Set's name earning a cheer.

"These Gods overpowered the Earth, destroying sentient life with their own fury. All except Gaea…"

"The woman!" Malai said, full of pride.

Vidar smirked. "Gaea tenderly protected Midgard's creatures from the endless warfare. She sat atop Midgard as a guardian and summoned Demiurge to her council. She conceived a sanctuary where she could emit goodness and peace.

Until! Atum was born. The first of a new generation of Gods! His power was that of a sun; wild, burning and furious! He slew the Midgardian demons and absorbed their energy until he transformed into Demogorge the God-Eater! Only Gaea remained from his mass murder. With his task complete, he rose into the sun and exhumed wholly good power.

His nascent consciousness was absorbed by the universe's energy and thus, the new Gods were born!"

"Odin," Ajun roared, rattling two swords together. Vidar beamed, his arms raised in otherworldly pride. "Over the millennia, each pantheon of Gods forged themselves a home in the twilight dimensions! And that world is…

Ellie, enthralled with pride, raising her fist. "Asgard!"

"Asgard! The realm of grandeur and majesty, of great and noble deeds!" The group cheered as they bathed in moonlight. Their canopy continued to be a blanket of stars as they sung Norse poems and laughed until the fires expired.

* * *

**References**

_Jarl_ – Norse for nobleman and warrior.

_Goblins_ or _Kofi _– devilishly small creatures who are malicious and greedy.

_The Story of Demiurge and Asgard_ \- Thor Comics 1966 No. 10.


	25. Naked Light

Worship of the Gods

_When **he** **shall** die,  
Take him and cut him out in little stars,  
And he will **make** **the face of heaven** **so** fine  
That **all** **the world will** be in love with night  
And pay no **worship** to the garish sun. _

– Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five: Naked Light

Nudity did not bother Ellie anymore. It had been taught to be sinful to look upon the naked figure of a man or woman whilst you yourself were bare. Before Asgard she had only indulged in the nude company of ex-lovers. Some were fleeting. Others not so much. Harry had been her longest relationship. He made Ellie feel sinful. She couldn't deny how much she enjoyed his bareness.

As she slipped into the cool plunge pool just as Lounn gathered his clothing. She watched his bare back muscles shift. Droplets of water slid off his skin, staining his linen trousers as he struggled to change in his semi-dry state. He waved her off and disappeared back up to camp.

Ellie sunk to her knees in the water, chewing the inside of her cheek as she shoved the thoughts away. Gods, she craved intimacy. Her fingers ached to feel the heat off another's skin. It definitely wasn't emerging from an attraction to Lounn; there wasn't one. Sex had been so much easier to attain on Earth; humans were constantly seeking physical relief.

Leaning her head back, she shivered as water crept between her curls. It weighed her down deliciously. Speckles of the waterfall hit her face as she rose, her chest rising out of the water. As she opened her eyes, her gaze sliding down the ocean-blue sky and into the trees, she was caught sight of the flittering birds' nest, the nursing pixie bush, and a jet-black snake slithering down a tree.

Her own skin was vacant of protection. She liked to think of her nudity as the same nudity seen in nature. Nothing wore scratchy tunics, socks or fraying undergarments. She imagined a tree adorning a pair of gloves and a wry grin spread up her face.

The snake smoothly slid over the tree roots, close to the edge of the natural pool. It hissed quietly, not meant to be provoking but to taste the ground beneath it for a scent. Snakes could taste the air around them. They were solitary creatures and did not mate for life. Ellie watched the creature and wished she was a snake; always moving, never stopping to think too much. The world was the way it was for a snake; an endless game of survival.

Ellie scoffed. It wasn't much different to real life. Except for her inability to deal with intimacy; or lack thereof.

The snake was jarring against the lush greenery of the Western Forest. She watched its unmoving eyes. They were planted in its head like too icy marbles.

A thought slithered into her head. One of the crowned princes: Loki Odinson. Having spent so much time together, it was hard to stop her thoughts drifting to him. He transformed into a snake so many times before, not quite like the one she was watching, but each of them had been dark and alluring. He was everywhere in Asgard: on shrines, tapestries, the mouths of its people.

What his mouth was like; saying her name. She imagined he spoke to everyone the same way. The haunting appeal of his voice must have got him everything he wanted. It felt like sacrilege to _not_ the tonal construction of each syllable. Eu-rey-lee-ah.

Her rosary beads slipped down her wrist, disappearing beneath the surface. She ran a hand through her wet hair and sunk into the pool a little more. With her eyes closed, she drifted down and saw the prince in the shadows of her eyelids. He was lithe, and strong; with the ungodly strength of a hundred Midgardian men. And he said her name again. Eurelia.

She prayed no one would disturb her as she slipped a hand beneath the surface.

* * *

The rest of the journey was uneventful, considering most of the group were wounded, exhausted and craving a decent meal. They had travelled a decent fifteen miles since the last goblin and had not encountered another wild beast, mythical creature or storm.

Dusk was approaching instead. Streaks of orange flashed through the canopy, deepening the dark corners of the woods. By Ellie's standards, there was not much good in the dark and she was grateful they were coming to the opening of the forest.

Surprisingly, there was no night-time mist plaguing their view of the palace gates. The air was crisp and clear. Several guards nodded happily at the returning warriors, almost humoured by their state of disarray. The gates were beautifully shining with gold. Turrets were adorned with golden flags and there was a bustling happiness to the kingdom.

The final day of Lithasblot made the palace look like an overdressed dollhouse. With its rich soldiers, flourishing people and market stalls; Ellie was almost jealous there was nothing like it on Earth.

"Ah, you bastards!" shouted a jolly, intoxicated Tyr, storming towards them with purpose. "Knew you'd make it back. Good form, teamwork – real bunch of fighters you've become."

Ellie nearly laughed. "How would you know? Curled in the arms of a woman the whole day as well?"

"I don't just have eyes in the back of my head," he nodded at them. "Get on with ye'. Go on. Celebrate the night before your final trials begin."

He beckoned the soldiers to walk past him and head up towards the inner city. For such a stout man, he expressed his personality well. Ellie figured she'd miss him quite a lot after training was over.

The barracks were deathly quiet when they reached it. Helga was gone; there was no smell of cooking meat, ale or servants in the stables. Ellie tucked her weapons away and followed Lounn out, thinking he would know of a pub they could indulge in.

"A pub?" he repeated. "It's the _last_ day. There's only light tonight."

Yawning, Ellie glanced back up at the barracks. "Gods, I'm shattered. I might just-"

"No," he interrupted, scaring her. "You have to celebrate. This is the light of the harvest. You have to feel it in here," he placed a gentle hand to her chest, just above her heart. Then he slipped his hand into hers and pulled her abruptly down the uneven pathways.

"Where are we going?" she asked, struggling to keep her balance on the rough cobble.

Lounn laughed, "you will see little human!"

"Will it last long?" Her captor rounded a corner, skidding like a car would around a sharp bend. Ellie held her hand tighter. The two soldiers sped further down a steep path and landed out in the middle of a busy street. Commotion made Ellie's head spin. Everyone was rushing past; laughing and smiling. Lounn let go of her hand.

"Where is everyone going?" Ellie tried to shout.

"Quickly! The beginning is the best part!" The warrior's bright face vanished into the crowd and Ellie's face was plastered with worry. Pushing through, she looked around for her friend and spotted dark hair. It wasn't difficult to move. Everyone was going in the same direction.

"Lounn!" she cried.

Exhausted and overwhelmed by the excitement, Ellie tripped into a small alley and watched the bustling world slide by like a tsunami wave through a city. She exhaled shakily and closed her eyes, tilting her head towards the sky.

Would it be such a sin to slip away now? She had done it nearly every night using a tattered cloak, stolen from the barrack cupboards. She could say she wasn't feeling well or was going to pick up a barrel of ale. Yes, she would do that. Rubbing her eyes, she went to slid deeper in the crevices of Asgard when a voice appeared out of the darkness.

"A lost Midgardian?" the man questioned. Ellie gasped, her eyes shooting open. "You're even further from home now."

"Your Highness," she said. "Are you stalking me?" Loki scoffed and his mouth captured a smile of amusement. "Hardly. It was difficult to enjoy festivities when one out of a crowd of thousands slipped away to mope. Are you attending a celebration or a funeral?"

Asgardian's cheered nearby. "I've been in this part of Asgard before," she said. "I'm not completely lost, but I've got no clue where I'm meant to be going. Lounn's gone and if I'm honest… I'd rather go to sleep."

"Your sense of adventure is appalling."

"It is not!" she said. "I've been fighting all day. I've barely bathed."

"So, I can tell," he scrunched his face up disapprovingly.

"At least it's not the stench of human anymore, right?" She cast a look down at her attire. Not as grimy as she thought, but hardly up to par with the prince's velvet uniform. "Did you… venture into the woods this morning?" she asked, slightly awkwardly.

Loki tilted his head. "No. I did not."

"Stupid to ask." Shaking her head, she struggled to explain: "I saw a snake," she looked down at her feet, warmth heating her cheeks. "Whilst I was bathing."

"Bathing? Have I told said before it's sacrilege to accuse a prince of voyeurism?"

"Well, I… yes. But it wasn't because I wanted it to be you. I mean I wouldn't want you to watch me bathing. I mean, it's sinful. I was… fucking hell," she huffed, shaking her head. "Ignore me. Stupid Midgardian question." Loki watched her intensely and she felt nauseous.

He clicked his tongue. "Pray tell, was your friend showing you Asgardian customs tonight?"

She nodded. "He was trying to. At this rate, I'll end up throwing my own party in my chamber."

"How pitiful," he said. Ellie looked up at him expectedly. "Do not take this as a reassurance of your sensitivity, but an assurance of _my_ superiority. Follow me and I will indulge your little Midgardian mind with a real party."

Only he could twist a kind gesture into a cruel jab. Regardless, a wry grin grew on Ellie's face. It blossomed, lighting up her eyes and showering Loki. She looked back at the bustling street; echoing laughter and singing. Her answer was already knowing at her insides, and Loki knew it. Looking back with her bottom lip between her teeth, Loki's hand was held out already.

She met his crystal blue eyes and slid her palm into his.

Off they went down the stone steps, taking them two at a time. Ellie struggled to keep up, her only support was Loki's grip. She clutched her tunic with one hand and felt the warm night air caress her legs. They sprinted through the pub gardens. Loki knew his way through the lower town; leading Ellie around each corner without hesitation.

"Why are we running?" Ellie asked, breathless.

Loki pointed up at the sky where half a dozen lanterns floated aimlessly. They were only hand a few moments to reach their destination it seemed. She watched them in a daze which the prince spoilt with a violent yank.

Bursting through the archway, they carried on through the town where others were leaping and laughing joyously. They headed in the same direction as Loki and Ellie; all with grins taking up their faces and their hearts beater faster than ever.

Cooking meat, burning oils and the smell of sunlight burned Ellie's nose. The atmosphere began to shift; a warm, intoxicating cloud. They reached the lower town Square, overtaking many others on their way. The crowd was enormous, all of them dancing already.

A band was playing a symphony of fast drumming and flutes. It was bewitching to the ear, with the thumping entering Ellie's bloodstream.

Loki shot her a glance and grinned widely. He pulled her into the crowd. The heat of numerous bodies and ale coated her. She laughed loudly as a man was doing an Asgardian-form of the Irish jig. It was bizarrely mesmerising. Her own heartbeat sped up at the sight.

Squeezing through the last of the crowd, Loki and Ellie came to a stop at one of the tables laid around the Square. Lady Sif was sat with the Warrior's Three, playing a coin game. Thor stood with several famous warriors, laughing loudly.

"My good brother!" he boomed, shoving a horned goblet in Loki's hand. "Drink! Divulge!" Loki let go of Ellie's hand and used his attention to drink every drop of ale. She scoffed, watching his neck as he swallowed it all.

"Never seen someone drink so much, Midgardian?" Hogun guffawed. Ellie felt the eyes of the table on her. She raised an eyebrow, already intoxicated on the merriment and leaned over, taking the goblet from his hand.

"I didn't just learn about _God_ at university," she said snidely and pushed the goblet against her lips. The ale was sharp, unlike anything on Earth. She knocked the drink back, gulping it down until the only remnants were on drips on her lips. Wiping her face unattractively, she shoved the horn back. "What is you Asgardians say? Oh, yes. Another!"

Loki watched her with brute fascination.

"Nearly as fast as you Sif," Volstagg said. The Lady Sif grinned back and tilted her drink towards Ellie. Volstagg handed another goblet to both of them. "Perhaps you can drink faster, but you can never drink as much as I."

"What of I?" Thor questioned, raising his own drink. Loki did the same, sharing a grin with his brother.

"When do we stop?" Ellie asked. "Surely we can't drink forever?"

"You'll know," Loki said. "Can you handle a little unanswered anticipation?" They began their contest. As the table was already lined with untouched drinks, it was easy to grab another and continue the alcoholic escapade.

"All of you are weak," Lady Sif boasted. "Seven goblets and now the Gods will celebrate me in delicious praise." She gave Volstagg a shove. Ellie was on her third as a loud gong sounded.

The entire Square's music went quiet, and the cheer and clapping of the Asgardians was diminished. Ellie lowered her drink and looked around. Her nervousness was diminished by the excitement growing on everyones' faces.

A deafening roar took control of the city. In every strip of land, every cobblestone street, and square a group of larpers posed to fight. Ellie stepped back, enthralled by their costumes and weapons. They were actors, not real warriors, but the message that represented was a powerful one.

"Odin!" they screamed and their battle began.

It wasn't a real fight. Their movements were slower, more rehearsed as they moved towards one another. Their screwed up faces were tight with anger and hatred, but as they swung their weapons down on each other, their blades burst. The armour popped. Thousands of balls of light exploded into the air, painting the onlookers in gold.

The crowd cheered, jumping to touch the lights. Ellie lifted a hand, her fingers skimming a small pocket of dust. It was like touching an open flame. She attempted to grab it and it burst into a dozen smaller lights which fluttered into her hair.

With each attack, more lights polluted the atmosphere until the sky wasn't full of night, but Lithasblot stars. They hung against the dark like paint splodges.

Defeated, the larpers gave their last cry and collapsed. Flowers grew over their armour through some form of incomprehensible magic. The beautiful aroma of fresh petals swept into Ellie's nose. And with that, the display was over.

Guests flooded the square, sweeping up the unconscious fighters as fluidly as a brush to dust. Ellie couldn't even see them being carried away, they simply disappeared into the hectic crowd. Golden dust rained down. It created a shift in the atmosphere; something close to angelic. For the first time, Ellie felt that this was what Valhalla looked like. She chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Tempted?" a voice lured beside her. She looked up at Loki in alarm as he took a step in-front of her, nearly slipping into the crowd if not for his otherworldly appearance.

"Oh, I can't," she dejected, shaking her head fiercely. Loki's eyes flared bright blue, as if smoke was pouring out of them. "Don't put some spell on me," she hissed, shoving his arm.

He laughed and blinked again so the magic was gone. "You believe that I would do that to you? Come, Eurelia."

Ellie exhaled and nodded. "Fine. I don't know the dance. What do I do?"

"I don't either," he replied, his voice full and exciting. Ellie took his hand and was absorbed by the crowd. She looked up and saw the golden stardust floating overhead like a curtain. It trickled down and landed on her body. She felt its warmth sinking into her skin.

Ellie held Loki's hand tightly and in an instant, he was holding the other. Their bodies were pressed against each other.

"My apologies, little Midgardian," he grinned, looking down at her. The ethereal atmosphere painted his eyes a shimmering gold.

"What for?" she began to ask. After the words were gone, she felt Loki pulling her round. They were quickly turning, in time with everyone else. Her feet struggled to keep up with Loki's erratic dancing. Springing around and around, Ellie let out a yelp of delight.

"Loki!" she begged aloud. "I can't go any faster!"

A fresh laugh came from him. The rushing air made it near impossible to hear much; except for the thundering noise of the drum and flutes. Ellie's heart raced faster and she swore she could feel Loki's.

In the blur around them, Ellie caught sight of Thor spinning with Lady Sif. Onlookers made way for him and they must've been doing the same for Loki. It appeared relatively normal that the princes were in this part of town.

Ellie and Loki came to a slowing stop, making room. Several Asgardians took the space, beginning a thundering foot-dance. With wide eyes, Ellie watched them kick the ground.

"Our turn," Loki said into her ear.

"What?" she blurted. "Loki, no. I really can't."

"You really can!" he said back with an overpowering joy. As the words left his mouth, there was a tidal wave of warmth. The stardust ran around the crowd like a river of glittering gold, swerving between the bodies. Its divine power flourished in the minds of the crowd. Ellie's loose curls fluttered around her face and she felt consumed by giddiness.

Eyes sparkling with gold, she clutched Loki's hand and grinned wildly. "Teach me!"

"As always," he replied, a wide grin blossoming on his face. He pulled her forwards and the pair began to dance madly. In circles, they span and turned. Onlookers stamped their feet to the beat of the drums. Clapping and laughter ensued until the music was louder, and faster, and roaring in Ellie's ears. She laughed loudly, only able to see raven hair.

**References**

\- The dancing scene from Titanic.

* * *

**Comments / Replies**

Oh Ellie, you saucy thing!

**darkangelynn5**

Thank you for reading. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story and I hope you like this chapter as there's so many interactions between Loki and Ellie! Happy reading! X

**Vivienneflwr**

Billie's lyrics are perfect for the chapter. Ellie is either living a dream and a nightmare; she's still unsure which one it is yet. Perhaps a bite does mean that or something more… alluringly naughty! Happy reading x

**Gothika**

She's progressed so much since she first entered Asgard. It's a real punch as it shows how long she's truly been gone. A while! Happy reading x


	26. Betrayal

Worship of the Gods

_There will come a time in your life  
when you lose something that matters to you.  
You'll fight for it and you won't win.  
But what really matters isn't the war you're waging,  
it's that you don't lose  
the person you are in the midst of the battle._

– J. Sterling, The Perfect Game

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six: Betrayal

Ellie licked her parched lips and rubbed her eyes. The hangover was setting in, and the call for cold drink drew her out of her bedsheets. She rubbed her eyes and leaned on the chest of drawers. As soon as her eyes met her reflection, she heard voices outside of her door.

"She showed signs for weeks," a deep voice says to his companion.

"Followed her out one night. She was heading towards the palace." Ellie thinks his name is Ragnar, but can't quite recall.

There is another woman with them; a good fighter and intimidating opponent. "Seeing her with the princes. I knew it straight away." Was it Soveigg?

Ellie leaned against the wall beside the frame, listening intently. Someone rattled her handle, setting her teeth on edge. She grabbed a flimsy training dagger from atop her drawers and held it to her chest, waiting for whoever was out there.

They open the door. "She's here, right?"

"Saw leaving the Alfheim Pillar about an hour ago…"

Ellie's eyes land on the shadowed figure. She inched backwards, staring at them in the confided darkness of her corner. They are bulky, stinking of ale and something sickly sweet. Ellie knows they want her dead before they can say another word. She thrusts her dagger into their throat.

It snaps inside of their neck, barely capable of reaching a vein or artery. Suddenly hands wrapped around her throat. Agony rippled up her face as she lost her ability to breathe. She ripped at their face, clawing into their cheeks until flesh curled beneath her nails.

_He_ screamed, dropping her neck, but grabbing her by the arm and wrenching her out the door.

"_Inoborna meyla_," he spits. A cold stone drops into the pit of Ellie's stomach when she realises it's Ajun. His companion turns her over, using her hair to push her entire body up to him.

Breathing rapidly, she was barely able to speak. "Why are you doing this?"

"You traitorous bitch," he replies, voice fuelled with passionate hatred. He clutches his neck with a grimace and pull the small blade out, tossing it aside. "I didn't want to believe it. That it was you. All those times… defeating me… battling me."

"Jealous?" she provoked and lifted her knee to kick him viciously. He stumbled back, startling the others. Ellie threw her head back, colliding her skull with Soveigg's obnoxiously large teeth. She clenched her fist, soaking up their anger and hatred. She felt sick with energy.

Whipping a hand up, she commanded the energy inside of her to wrap around a torch hanging on the wall. The fire rose as a shivering, spitting ball. Her attackers swore loudly, their voices cracking like broken violin strings. The animal within wanted to explode.

She cast the fire at them. It burst on impact. Even Ellie felt its heat. She stumbled back, staring as they fought off the flames and smacked their linen garments.

"I don't want to do this," she started, feeling pitiful and monstrous. "Please." There was a distant noise behind her. For a moment, she cast a hopeful glance down the corridor. Ragnar and Soveigg cursed. A fierce force smashed into the side of her face, rupturing her jaw and eyeball. Agony burst. White flashes exploded in her vision. She gasped, slumping against the wall.

"Fucking Christ," she groaned.

"See?" someone begged gleefully. "A Midgardian witch! She betrays us. Even away from the battlefield."

"I'm not a witch," she spat. "You traitorous fucker."

Ragnar slammed his fist into her stomach, forcing her to double over. "Fuck!" he spat. Ellie clutched her body and promptly vomited on their shoes. She slid to her knees, unable to focus on anything other than pain. Ajun hissed. "Let's be done with it."

Ragnar pulled Ellie to her feet where she wavered for a moment. Three against one. She had taken on two opponents in training before, but never three. Her gaze met Ragnar's furious face. It was blotched with angry red burns where the skin was raw and still peeling. "We'll show her body to Tyr," he said. "He'll understand why we've had no choice." He threw her to the ground with enough jarring force that Ellie smacked her head off the stone. She cried out, feeling woozy.

When she moved her arm, something wrapped around her wrist, binding them together. Another whisper flurried between them all. Soveigg yanked her arm up, flashing the rosary in Ellie's face. "What is this Midgardian magic? Is this why you're able to train? Cheating?" Ellie tried to roll over to crawl away, but they pulled her back with a hateful grunt.

Ajun wrapped his fingers around the rosary. Ellie felt its loss before it was truly gone. He yanked it off, splattering beads across the corridor and into her face. "No!" she cried. Hot, wet tears slid down her face. A loud bang echoed through her ears, spiking her eardrums with a pinprick of pain. Her legs felt wet. Maybe it was sweat or her tears. She sobbed loudly and unconditionally, her emotional agony bursting out of her very soul. Shaking, she stared up at Ajun and spat at him. "You coward. You fucking coward!"

Attempting to burn them to ashes, she threw a hand towards them, but Ragnar grasped her wrist. He pressed too harshly, too quickly and the bone splintered. Ellie screamed, her eyes flashing with fury. For a split moment, Ajun swore they were gold. And then her mundane brown returned and she was sobbing, leaning towards Ragnar mercilessly.

Her bloodied, tear-stained face tilted up to focus on Ajun. "You…" she snarled, her voice breaking. "Traitor to the… Allfather." Her words gargled as Ajun wrapped his hands around her throat. Instead of her voice, he began to scream. His vocal chords ripped and tore as he screeched into Ellie's face. White pain flashed through her body as her eyes rolled back, unable to contend with the overpowering attack.

"Burn in Hel," Ajun felt her soft tissue flatten beneath the skin. Her thorax was ribbed like a snake and he pressed harder. Rage overwhelmed his hearing. He was unaware of the storm of warriors entering the sleeping quarters.

Ragnar dropped her broken wrist and got to his feet. He stood beside Soveigg with fearful, unjustified eyes as the corridor swarmed with soldiers. They were half-drunk, but that didn't hinder their attentiveness to a fight.

Tyr shoves his way to the front of the crowd. The barrels of water had burst, flooding the ground with hay and ash from the broken torches. It looked as if a windstorm had swept through it. Half the doors had been flung open or smashed shut.

"Yield, you fucker," he snarled, storming towards the scene. Ajun ignored him and he wrenched the warrior by the hair, thrusting him into the opposite wall. He looked like a scared boy, staring up as if he'd been caught doing wrong. Sweat poured off his face.

Tyr felt sick as he looked down at Ellie. She was slumped, hideously bruised and battered; but alive. For a moment, her eyes fluttered open. The captain unsteadily took to one knee, holding his hands at a short distance from her face. She breathed shallowly and fearfully.

"Get the guards," he demanded behind him, voice agonisingly packed with anger. "And the Eir."

Ajun, soaking wet from the exploded barrels, leaned towards him. "B-but she's human. She's the human!"

A murmur rippled behind Tyr. It stung his ears. With a disgusted glare, he addressed the entire corridor. "She's a soldier. She's one of you."

Ellie's eyes drifted up to the ceiling. She found beige clouds and wooden rafters which transformed into planes. The colours rippled into a sea of gentle coffee. It was a sweet way to fall asleep. She closed her eyes, imagining she was swimming in a warm mug of it.

* * *

Odin's single eye flickered across Ellie's slumbering form. His wife sat beside her, stroking her hair and whispering healing incantations. It was much to his dismay that she was so maternal towards the girl, but he made no attempt to stop her. The private healing chamber had been her request. Unlike the first time they met when Ellie was surrounded by other patients, she was alone and had her own personal healer.

Frigga ran a finger over Ellie's swollen eye. Her eyelashes poked out of the swelling like spiders' legs. Much of the healing had to be done naturally, but it was no longer purple or pulsating. Much like her nose was no longer broken. It had healed rather finely, Frigga thought. In fact, the healing process wasn't taking much time. It had only been two days since the attack.

There was no denying it was the recklessness of Ellie, her sons, and the trainers which exposed her true-self. Even Odin couldn't blame the girl's humanness. Truth is born in the dark. It was always going to lighten reality. If only it hadn't induced their own people to turn. "How did the meeting go, my love?" Frigga asked.

Odin took a step forwards, inhaling the distinct smell of antiseptic and cleanliness. "They have seen justice. And will continue to see it in the four walls of their cells."

With an understanding nod, Frigga tightened her grip on Ellie's soft hand. The other was bandaged in a firm cast. "I heard the ringleader wished to be on the kings-guard."

"He did beg for it. Pledged his life to serving the realm."

"He may pledge in his cell, then."

Odin placed a loving hand on his wife's shoulder. With burdened hearts, they shared a knowing look. "Our own people," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "They were meant to teach her unity."

"Jealousy breeds hatred."

"Gods," Frigga cast a glance over Ellie, her eyebrows knitted together. "Look at her."

"She's stronger." Frigga looked up at Odin. "She's a warrior. She'll be ready soon."

Frigga sniffled, rubbing a thumb over the girl's palm. "Yes. I sense it now." Ellie's eyes shivered and her lips parted. As much as Frigga wanted to look into those beautifully mundane eyes, she knew it was time to attend other matters. "So much more than we thought."

"Than I thought," Odin admitted. His wife rose to her feet, taking his hand. "Come. I sense she will have company soon."

They left the room quickly, listening to the girl's heartbeat and steady breaths. They retained a normal pace until out of earshot.

Ellie emerged from the darkness like a tadpole from the bottom of a pond. She emerged into a world basked in white light and a warm breeze. Inhaling, she opened her eyes and stared up at the canopy of an alien world. _It was time for morning mass_, she thought. _Where did I put my pinafore last night?_

Wait. She blinked quickly and her right eye twanged with pain. Ellie raised a hand to touch it and found her wrist was restricted by a bandage. It ached on the end of her arm, making her wince. A cannula tugged at the vein in the back of her other hand.

The memories flooded back in soft waves. Ajun's dark figure leering through her door, Ragnar's heavy fist and Soveigg's heavy breathing. And the power Ellie found in their anger. She imploded the water tanks, the torches and oak doors in the corridor. She sighed, slumping into her pillows.

_I am definitely being expelled now_.

Or maybe not. What Ajun and his companions had done was traitorous. With a groan, Ellie squeezed her eyes together. It was painful as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her head emitted a dull ache which ran down her back.

"Ellie?" a voice called. She recognised the panicky undertones anywhere. Lounn burst out of the corridor. "I didn't betray you. Ellie, I swear," he stormed towards her. she stared at him between the bloody, blurred eyelids threatening to take her vision all together. "Gods, look at you. I swear, I told them nothing."

"Lounn, I know," she croaked.

"How?" he asked. "Is there anything I can do? Odin, your eye."

"Might as well be Odin now I have one intact eye," she painfully joked. "Wonder what is under his patch I wonder…"

"Shut it. Gods, you're a blithering fool." Lounn continued to flourish. "Do you want some water?" She nodded and struggled to reach for the goblet beside her. He picked it up and held it to her lips. As she extinguished her thirst, a sharp pain came from her throat.

She placed a hand to her neck. "He tried to kill me." Lounn's eyes drifted to her throat. They widened and darted across the angry bruises wrapping around her skin like a snake. Ellie worriedly swallowed again. "Must be why my voice is so shit."

"It's… it's not. Just strained."

Her eyes swam with tears. "Who saw? Who knows?"

"Everyone."

"Fuck." She let her head fall back in defeat, wishing the ground would split and swallow her whole. "Have they planted traps in my bed? Group skewering session for me?"

Lounn actually smiled. "No," he shook his head. "In fact, they're rooting for you. It's one thing being without honour, but being a traitor… something different."

"Even Gustav? He was on a manhunt for me."

"All talk. They set fire to Ajun's garments last night. Vidar sang a healing prayer for you."

Ellie's heart thudded loudly. It hurt in her chest, but relief was a much better emotion. "Really?"

"On the journey back from the Western Forest, you saved his life." Ellie couldn't remember at all, but it was enough of an excuse for her as Lounn continued. "They'll remember it until the end of their days." She took another sip of water, waiting for him to carry the rest of the conversation. Truth be told, she felt terrible and wanted to go back to sleep. But her friend was loyal and at her bedside after everything that had happened. She couldn't waste a moment resting.

For a good hour, Lounn and Ellie spoke about the barracks response to her bloodline. It was remarkable news, making her wounds feel better and her feelings spring up like fresh flowers. She listened intently to her friend laugh over Helga's singing abilities when she joined in with Vidar. It had been Tyr who'd dragged Ajun, Ragnar and Soveigg to the Allfather.

Ellie had a distant memory of Tyr shouting, but it was so far removed in her mind that she wasn't sure it was real at all.

"Have I had any other visitors?" she asked, picking her bandage.

"Not that I've seen. There's a rumour the Queen Mother and Allfather have been at your side frequently, but they slip past me."

"That's not so hard," she teased as a healer entered the chamber. Lounn cast a glance at her and turned back to Ellie with a pitiful smile.

"This is where I leave you," he said. "Try not to miss me too much."

"It'll be so hard. Who else will listen to you talk about yourself now?"

"I'll find anything with a pair of ears."

"There's some hogs in the stables waiting to be used in Helga's stew?"

"That's a cruel thing to call the others," he left the room, leaving Ellie with an amused smile on her face. When he was out of view, the smile dropped, and she held a hand to her throat.

"Fuck," she croaked.

The healer waddled towards her bedside with a floating tray lined with different coloured bottles. They looked like they'd been pulled out of an alchemist's dungeon. She glanced up at the healer and was grateful she had a kind, aged face. The stereotype of a mad scientist had not reached Asgard yet. Not that the clinking of potions made her feel any safer. The healer poured two elixers together and spun them rapidly in a red glass.

Ellie winced as she sipped it. Medicines never tasted sweet, they were bitter and foul on the tongue. The taste made you believe you were drinking acid, not a cure. Still, she finished the glass and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

"Should've just jumped out the window," she muttered. "There's some advantages to being a coward, I suppose."

"Did you not try to run, Eur-child?" the healer slipped. Ellie's eyes darted up to the healer's face. She was already watching her expectedly which forced her to blink quickly and look away.

With a tight voice, Ellie struggled. "I can't remember. I had my eyes closed for most of it… my teacher told me to close my eyes to things I don't want to see. Didn't do much good on my end."

"Perhaps he was lying. Did you believe it?"

"He… was teaching me about bloodshed. I had to."

"Teaching? Teachers tell lies," the healer continued to wrap Ellie's arm. A soothing sensation rippled over her.

"So, you think he was sympathising me so I'd feel better in the moment?" Ellie asked, peering up at her. The healer's eyes never left hers and in them swam something Ellie couldn't decifer. "He lied to me."

"Perhaps," she said.

"Why would he lie about something so frivolous?"

"A teacher never reveals his secrets if the outcome is what he desires."

"They call my teacher Silver-Tongue. He's meant to be cunning and agile. I find him rather petty." She watched the healer's face struggle to retain its composure. "What would you do if you were faced with pain?"

"I don't look away. I stare it in the face," she said, letting Ellie's arm drop onto the soft sheets. The healer leaned towards her. From the appearance of her skin, she was older than Odin. There was no elasticity in her skin, so it drooped into her neck and sagged on her collarbone. It looked like her own flesh had begun to peel off her bones.

Ellie stayed painfully still as the healer pressed two fingers to her throat. She ran them along the bruises at a pace so gentle, that it would make a butterfly's wing feel like an earthquake. Ellie swallowed. Her throat moved beneath the healer's fingers. "What good does that do?" she asked, her voice stronger.

The healer tilted her head and stood up straight. "Truthfully, I let it consume me. It's what keeps me going." The words quickly out of her mouth as if she was admitting something nestled in the dark corner of her soul. Ellie wanted to ask the healer more, but she bowed her head and commanded the tray of ointments out of the room with her.

Ellie gingerly touched her neck. The pain was gone and the bruises were a soft blue.

* * *

**References**

_Inoborna meyla_ – unborn little girl


	27. The Descent into Theological Loss

Worship of the Gods

_She knew that this day, this feeling, couldn't last forever.  
Everything passed; that was partly why it was so beautiful.  
Things would get difficult again.  
But that was okay too.  
The bravery was in moving forward,  
no matter what_

– Panic, Lauren Oliver

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Descent into Theological Loss

* * *

**Two Days Later**

Ellie slept so soundly, that for several moments after she woke, she felt comfortable and content. She vaguely knew who and where she was, but her reasons for being there were lost to her. Then a terrible feeling crept over her and she remembered.

The blankets were a cocoon of warmth on her sore body; so warm and coaxing compared to the voice of the royal healer as she entered the chamber. It was a different woman everyday but the one who stuck out the most was the one three days ago who reminded Ellie very much of the black-haired prince. Not that she would ask him. He'd be relentlessly angry for being caught out.

"Head out of those bedsheets, petal," Ingrid called, her voice chirpy and rather nagging. Ellie pried one eye open, momentarily squinting before her healer's plump form waddled in front of it. She emerged with her memories, pulling the blanket around her shoulders muttering, "Jesus, it's cold."

"See?" Ingrid started, "everyone's jumping around singing _'blessed be, Lithasblot' _ when I know, I know it means cold days and ice," she said. "And ice is not good. It's cold."

Holding her blankets to her body, Ellie unevenly staggered off the bed. She shivered as Ingrid held her arm. "I don't really mind the cold. It's refreshing."

"Want me to bathe you in cold water instead?"

Ellie glanced up at her. "Well, I mean it's a shame to let it go to waste, isn't it?" They shared a small grin as Ellie untied her healing gown and took a shaky step into the round bath set up in front of a crackling fire. An ointment of glistening purple swirled in the water. It was alive as it swept around Ellie's legs, thighs and stomach. She sighed, bringing her knees to her chest. "This feels good."

"Some gingko, primrose slithers and ground draugr eyeballs." Ellie jolted, staring at her as if she'd gone mad. The healer began to cackle. "Gods, I'm funny. It's echinacea oil."

Ingrid helped her bathe. Having the middle-aged woman gently soothing her bruised skin was reminiscent of the orphanage. Ellie closed her eyes. It was better in fact. She imagined Ingrid was her mother.

The soap became frothy on her back and neck, only to be washed away with fresh water. Her neck was still stiff, but it didn't hurt to talk anymore. The wrist was bandaged, and her stomach didn't reject food. Being kicked close to the kidneys wasn't on her top list of injuries either. But it taught her a lesson; protect the front first. Your face doesn't matter; it's your insides.

Ingrid coughed. "When I first saw you, you'd be massacred by a warg, but the skin beneath your injuries was the clearest I'd ever seen. Disregarding the scarring up your spine and the back of your neck, you really were a specimen."

Ellie scratched her skin self-consciously.

"From birth, Aesir suffer brutal injuries. It's all normal. A child's favourite past-time is fighting."

"How am I looking now then?" Ingrid wrapped a large strip of cloth around Ellie's shoulders, helping her up.

"The training scabs and scars…" she hummed. "I must digest that you look like a true Asgardian."

"I don't feel like one. I lost a fight."

"You were betrayed. It's not the same."

Warming at her healer, Ellie smiled. She slipped a thin, linen dress over her head and crawled into bed. "What's for breakfast?" she asked.

"I've also got you something hot. Something full of veg," she said, touching her cheek with a forefinger. "And a herbal drink." Ellie smiled gratefully, shifting in her bed as she sat up higher. Ingrid lifted a silver dish revealing a bowl of soup and moved the tray in front of her. Ellie's stomach growled as the waft of carrots, potatoes and leek snaked its way into her nostrils. She sipped the food, enjoying the burn as it slid down her throat.

Ingrid scribbled some notes down on a notepad, sending small glances at Ellie. She finished something rather official and tucked the information away in a folder at the end of the bed. "Get some rest."

* * *

**One Week Later**

"You look different."

With a bow arched between her hands, Ellie exhaled steadily. "Is it the black-eye?" She released it and winced as a sharp twang rippled her arms. The arrow shakily soared and slammed two metres from the target. Ellie grimaced again.

"Pitiful," Naeva said with a half-sarcastic shrug. "It's the wrist."

Ellie looked down at the thing. It was no longer broken. Much worse than that it had been aligned several days ago and had an obnoxiously tattered bandage still wrapped around it. She glanced back to her acquaintance and frowned, feeling rather lost and confused. Her time on Asgard was coming to an end, she feared. Since the attack, she appeared to be hopping from one place to another. It was as if she were a piece on a boardgame and someone simply placed her here, there and then.

Something within her screamed that she was no longer in control. She clenched her teeth, swelling with anxiety.

"Dunga," someone called. Ellie knew the nickname was meant for her. She turned around and met Gustav's overpowering form. He wore a sleeveless tunic, exposing a tattoo he had done recently. It was an Yggdrasil rune, meaning _eihwaz_ which was the liberation from fear of death. Despite her surety that he was planning on cutting her open to see her human blood, she felt proud of him. Tyr must've awarded him for something; his spirit was now elevated. "I warn you," he said. "You'll find no sympathy from me for being a human."

Ellie's eyes snapped to his. A wry smirk grew on her lips. She remembered one of their first meetings. They held distain for one another then. "My name is Eurelia. You'll find none from me."

I warn you, dunga, you'll find no sympathy." Now, there was admiration. They shared a sentimental stare.

Naeva lifted her bow again, releasing an arrow with a smooth hiss. "Gods, you're dramatic," she said flippantly. "Nice ink."

"My gratitude," Gustav said. "There was a scout mission on Niflheim. We were ambushed. Saved three innocents."

"Show off."

Undoing her wrist sling, Ellie suddenly felt very ill. "What did you have to battle?"

"Trolls," he recalled. "They were stealing livestock and didn't like us disturbing their cave."

Wrinkling her nose, Elle was grateful she had been retrieved by Tyr for the task. From the tales, they were abhorrently smelly. They had festering sores all over their bodies which popped often. It was particularly difficult to avoid any liquid during a quarrel as they liked to be naked. "I hope you showered," she said.

"I think if he didn't, we'd be able to tell," Naeva unstrapped her finger sling, packing away her bow.

Gustav grinned. "My natural odour is a musky aphrodisiac."

"For a goat in heat," Ellie slid back icily.

"What's wrong with goats? My cousin is half-goat," he said, and Ellie swallowed, suddenly embarrassed. Gustav then burst into laughter and shoved her roughly, knocking her sideways. "Lighten up, little human."

"It's… hard to," she admitted. "I'm struggling with my trust."

Gustav chewed the inside of his cheek. "Have you been called to forgive Ajun and his accomplices?"

"No. It's too late, anyway," she said. "They're in the dungeons. There's a trial soon. I've been called to bear witness to their punishment."

Naeva raised an eyebrow. "Are they to be sacrificed?"

Slightly unsure, Ellie could only offer a shrug. They were rare and few in modern Asgard after the Völva predicted Ragnorök directly involved the Norse underworld of Hel. Odin used to ride to the realm with his prisoners thousands of years ago. In fact, it was so long ago that very few living memories of the ritual existed. Ellie knew she wasn't worth enough for such a commotion. It was probably a firm scolding. "Should've challenged him to a holmgang," she grabbed hold of a sword, preparing to practise with Naeva.

"You've changed," she grinned. "I remember watching you… petrified in our first classes. Did you know what a holmgang was back then? Or a good liar?" Ellie held her gaze for a pregnant second. "Yes, you've changed."

Had she really been so obvious? Lifting the sword, she held it close to her and tilted it in the sunlight. It was an intricate piece of steel and gold rounded in her hand and soft to hold – for the first time, it wasn't a weapon, but a companion.

How could she admit that to Him? To the Heavenly Father. "Yes," she replied quietly, " I think… I have."

* * *

**Three Days Later**

The trial took place in a dimly lit room on the underside of the dungeons. Gravity metamorphosed for Asgard. Ellie took one step down a dingy stairway and was suddenly upright and feeling dizzy. She looked back and saw the bright blue sky of Asgard upside down. It was a magical tactic used to confuse prisoners. She would've been impressed if her stomach was churning; threatening to push breakfast back out of the oesophagus.

Slightly pale, she stood beside Aelfred and watched the three-way trial. Heat bloomed in her chest as each one took a seat and waited for their punishment from the Allfather. It was painful to look upon their faces. They were no longer smiling or laughing like they did in training. The raw hatred plumed out of their auras like a steam engine.

Finally, Ajun rose from his seat and shuffled into the middle of the room. On either side of him was a guard. She looked upon his face and flared with confused disgust.

Before arriving to the trial, she had prepared in her bedchamber and passed through the corridor where his quarters were. For the first time in weeks, his door was open. She had cast an empty look into his room. The bed was stripped, there were no photos on his drawers. No clothing in his trunk. No sign of life at all. She let her fingers drift on the door frame for a single moment and then she turned and stormed out of the barracks without a second thought. _Ajun deserved to be locked away_, she had thought snidely.

And then she realised how wrong she was to think so. He was passionate, corruptly passionate, but passionate, nonetheless. He craved the glory of the kingsguard; serving from the frontline. Ellie couldn't help but feel as if she were to blame for the entire affair. If she didn't exist then Ragnar, Soveigg and Ajun would be thriving warriors, nearly ready for their final test. None of them had their armbands and now had no chance of receiving one.

Ellie rubbed her wrist. She felt as if a piece of flesh had been ripped from her where the rosary once sat. Mourning its loss didn't help the hatred threatening to bubble to the surface. She wanted to rattle Ajun like a bottle full of tablets and scream in his face. _You took it from me_. _You destroyed my last piece of home. You are a fucking bastard. _

"And finally, Allfather, the court is ready to proceed with motions in Ajun Norason," a bearded man declared. It was a small court. There was no such thing as an attorney, jury or defender. Odin had a single eye and with that eye he was able to expose the true nature of any soul. "This is the matter of Ajun Norason in regard to the attack on Eurelia Adamson of Midgard."

The bearded councilman listed a chronological recollection of the attack. New facts came to light in the proceedings: Ajun had divulged his thoughts days beforehand to Ragnar and Soveigg. They had spied on her; bathing, eating and disappearing up to the palace in the early hours of the morning. It made Ellie's skin crawl. Who else was watching her?

"I call the victim to be examined," the bearded man said, calling Ellie to attention. She had been able to watch Ragnar and Soveigg in silence. "The ringleader must be responded to, my lady."

Frigidly nodding, Ellie took a shaky step forward. There was a set of stairs down to Ajun. From her platform, he was tiny and the court was sickeningly focused on her.

"Could you please state your name for the Allfather?"

"Eurelia Adamson," she said.

"Eurelia, how are you employed?"

"I'm a training warrior."

"Do you see Ajun Norason in court today?"

Her gaze slid to the man who was already watching her. "Yes. He's stood there in chains."

"Eurelia, could you tell the Allfather in full what happened on the night of the fourteenth of Tvimánuður?"

Ellie recalled leaving the celebration. She reminded the court that she was slightly intoxicated but aware of her surroundings. Having heard a commotion outside of her door, she prepared to attack the intruders but what shocked to discover it was Ajun.

"He was first through the door," she said. "In the dark. He was there for me."

"Were his intentions clear?"

Nodding, Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes. I'm human. He said I didn't deserve to beat him in our training. I'm a traitor."

Ajun abruptly yanked on his chains, taking the guards by surprise. "No, I didn't. You are a liar!"

The councilman leapt to his feet. "Silence. There are no interruptions in court."

"You have allowed yourself to be tainted by a mutant!" Ajun continued. "She's an outsider."

A sudden flare of hatred burst out of Ellie. It came from nowhere and it was red hot within her. "How dare you. My purpose here is far more important than you will ever know."

"See? She's consumed by human greed! Lazy! Incompetant!"

"Norason!" the councilman cried. Ellie swept down several steps, ignoring the gasps of the Queen-Mother and Aelfred.

"I worked twice as hard as you," she hissed, taking a furious step towards him. "I spent months being no-one; beaten… stripped. Hidden from the likes of you who think you're worthier than I."

"You are the coward, then," he spat.

"I was strong. I_ deserve _this."

Ajun twisted his wrists, sneering. "You can wear the skin of a snake, but in time, you will succumb to its poison. You'll never be as powerful as an Asgardian. Your scars prove that." Ellie breathed heavily, staring at him with uncontrollable hatred. She clenched her fist and his eyes darted down it. "Go on," he edged.

"Eurelia," a smooth voice warned.

"Show me what a human needs magic for," Ajun said. "What a weak, snivelling, uncontrollable human _wants_ it for."

Heat rippled in Ellie's chest. "I…"

Ajun's grin shook with a breathy laugh. "What? Trying to figure out whether you belong her or down there?"

Something twanged inside of Ellie's chest. It was painful as if the words were nails and Ellie's embarrassment was a hammer, cracking open her soul. For many moons she pondered her ability to define home. "Of course I belong down there," she jabbed. "My father wasn't even an Asgardian warrior."

"Enough, girl," Aelfred said, but his voice slipped passed Ellie's notice.

Ajun scoffed, stretching his arms testily as if he meant to lunge at her. "You're not human, though," he said. "Is she, Allfather? You'll whip me for protecting the realm from a mongrel?"

Ellie hissed, breathing heavier as ripples of energy threatened to splash out of her. "I'm human!"

"Prove it," he said. "Try not to break me. To use your witchcraft on me. Go on, pull me apart like I did unto your holy relic. You remember that, don't you? That red, beaded bracelet. There was a man on there; strung to a cross."

She tilted her head up, staring down at Ajun's inferior form. How beautifully his skin would crack beneath a whip. The tousled hair would be matted with blood; thick and uncombable. The muscles grown around his skinny figure would split, sliding off the bone as wet flesh.

Ellie's fingernails dug into her palm.

"Ellie," the Queen gently pressed again.

"So, that's it?" Ajun continued. "The council… Asgard… everyone watching you in your all-powerful might. How special you are, how different and worthy –"

"It's what I am owed!" Ellie screeched, throwing an arm out sideways. There was a roar of noise as glass splintered out of the high window, as concrete cracked, and the council cried out in alarm.

A force swept Ellie's sideways, knocking her to the ground. Her hip hit the stone and shot agony down her leg. She gasped, staring up as sunlight blinded her. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she could see the damage. The window had burst open like a chest-burster, splattering glass and stone outwards. Only it was frozen in its splintering state; as if time had stopped.

The council grumbled uncomfortably, returning to their seats and adjusting their robes. Loki had taken several steps in front of his father. He had an arm raised; his fingers spread as he controlled the window's path of destruction.

Odin rose to his feet gracefully, his cloak sweeping the floor as he took several steps forwards. "By the power of Odin, Protector of the Nine Realms, I hereby banish you to the cells of Asgard. You will lie there until death. And in death, I shall escort you to Hel."

Cold, unforgiving hatred swam around the room. The prisoners cried out in alarm. Ajun's screams echoed around them, dissipating as he was dragged out of the room and down a corridor. Words of betrayal coughed out of the open door until another guard slammed it shut and they were left in silence.

Ellie sobbed, dropping back to the floor. She stared at the Allfather through a blurry gaze. "I don't know what's happening to me," she blurted.

"The next time a prisoner is facing their rightful punishment, you will not intervene," Odin dropped his gaze, taking the air from her lungs. "Unless you wish to take their place." He swept from the room, leaving his sons in silence. Thor coughed awkwardly, watching Loki enchant the window back into place.

The Queen Mother held a hand out. "Come with me," she said down to Ellie. The human got to her feet sluggishly, her boots scratching on glass and cement. She was shaking as she climbed the steps and took Frigga's hand.

A beautifully soothing warmth slithered up her arm as she looked into the queen's eyes. She glanced back at Loki who had restored the window. He was in a deep conversation with his brother; neither pulled their gazes away from her as she left the room.

* * *

**References**

Holmgang – a Viking duel used to settle honour disputes. If someone felt they had been dishonoured, they went to an enclosed space and fought (sometimes to death, usually to death).


	28. Tip of the Tongue

Worship of the Gods

_Oh, he did look like a deity –  
the perfect balance of danger and charm,  
he was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible,  
distant because of his demonstrated flawlessness,  
and possessing such strength of character  
that he was dismaying and at the same time  
utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way._

Simona Panova, Nightmarish Sacrifice

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tip of the Tongue

Something was deeply wrong with her. She was losing time. It shot by, or rather… _she_ shot through time. She could scarcely recall the sound of London traffic, the taste of coffee and the human gasps of awe echoing through the museum's walls.

Did anyone miss her? Was her apartment emptied; her things sold at auction?

The possibility of returning to London used to be plausible. Ellie prayed she would be allowed to see it one last time before saving the Ljósálfar. Although, the rate her life was flying by, she figured she would be a wrinkly, immobile woman by then. Her head ached at the idea of it. She rubbed her temples attempting to recall what happened after Ajun's trial.

No thought would appear. It was as if she walked out of the hall and into present time.

Rumour had it Ajun, Ragnar and Soveigg screamed down to the dungeons and continued to screech until the sun rose the following day. They considered it a betrayal from their own kind.

"Stop thinking about them," Lounn shoved her. She lowered her bitten forefinger and shot him a disgruntled glare. "You know they deserve what they got."

Unable to bring herself to admit it, she leaned against the stone wall and watched the warriors huddled around a table.

"Which one do you think I should get done?" he changed the conversation to her deep gratefulness. "I'm thinking the incisors." Shoving a finger in his mouth, he pulled his lip up and touched his teeth. They were smooth, humanely yellowed but uncarved.

"None of them. Gordon Bennet," she exasperated, "you want to taint the body God gave you?" With a grin, she pulled his hand down and shook her head. "That was a joke, but I stand by my words. Don't do this."

The dreadful events of the trial were followed by the exciting news of Lord Freyr's return. His people, the Ljósálfar, were arriving that morning. Only Ellie knew their presence was vital to her task. They would witness her final trial and be the judge of her destiny. Sweat beaded her underarms and forehead at the idea of being a spectacle. She would have to consult Loki Odinson beforehand, he would be able to calm her. He deduced her anxiety into ash like a prayer used to.

"Skål!" Gustav cried, knocking back a goblet of ale. He rubbed a finger across his freshly filed teeth and grinned menacingly. Lounn bounced on his toes.

With the news of the Ljósálfar, the incoming graduation and battles, the warriors decided it would a paradisiac opportunity to carve runes in their teeth. It was a Norse tradition for fighters. During war, they would bare their teeth and frighten their opponents. The symbols would be eternal in the bone, unless someone spun their jaw out.

Ellie neared the table and peered at the next victim. It was Malai. The woman shot her a glare for being nosy. It was hard to pull her eyes away as the carver scratched a deep, horizontal groove in her central incisor.

With the contents of her stomach threatening to make an appearance, Ellie clenched her jaw. "Gods, I'd rather shag a draugr than do that," she strained.

"Inbreeding is illegal," Malai hissed, her voice muffled by the carver's knife.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Ellie snapped back and turned back to Lounn.

"Go on," he teased. "Do it for me. In memory of me."

"Absolutely not."

"I could die in battle."

"And I'd be sorry for that. But we both know death isn't the end."

"Well, not for me, but do you end up in Valhalla?" he asked. Ellie blinked quickly, lowering her goblet from her lips. "I mean, your God has his own afterlife. Heaven or resurrection? I was confused when I…"

Ellie's heart warmed. "You looked up my faith? Out of pure respect for me? Lounn, I'm so…"

"With all respect in mind, it left me very confused. Still, it was a beautiful rendition of the universe's creation. Even if… slightly wrong." They shared a tender smile. Ellie's turned into a bitter groan.

"Fine!" she cried. "I'll get _one_ done."

Lounn smiled. "Front and middle?"

"Don't push it or I'll run you through. A canine. _Just_ the canine."

Malai slid off the make-shift table, flaunting her new teeth all the way to the mirror. She had three carved and one filed into a point. In truth, Ellie wouldn't want to meet her on the battlefield.

The carver was semi-nude and hairy. He dipped his dagger into a bucket of boiling water and slapped his hands together, asking Ellie what she was hoping for.

"Protection," she replied, shuffling onto her back and laying down onto the hard surface. Her gaze slipped to Lounn, who was proudly watching her.

"Don't move," the carver steadied his blade. "Might end up with no nose."

_Be still. Stop wriggling like a little worm_, Sister Bonita would say. Ellie clenched her fists and tilted her head back, settling it between the carver's legs. Her eyes fell on his chest; his naked chest which was covered in sweat, dirt and tattoos. It distracted her from the scratching on her tooth.

He grunted, carving into the bone so bits of grit fell onto her tongue and onto her tonsils. She gave a muffled cough and winced.

"Stop wriggling," the carver snapped. "You're like a worm." Ellie nearly grinned, forgetting about her lost time and empty home.

* * *

**Asgardian Upper Town**

"I'm no different to that beggar," Ellie pointed, drawing their gazes to the homeless man rattling a clay pot of change. Loki's eyes slid over the man, withdrawing his emotion. "I rely on your wealth to survive Asgard. Just like he relies on the coin of Asgardians to live."

"There's more to it than that." Loki flicked a copper halfpenny into the pot. The beggar shot him a blessed thank you.

"There's nothing more to it."

"Status."

Shaking her head, Ellie followed the prince's lead back up to the palace. They had been called to greet to the Ljósálfar at Bifrost. To Ellie's admiration, Frigga ordered her son to lead her up to the palace to prepare for the feast. According to Loki, it was because she looked lie she'd been dragged through a mud-puddle and bathed in a sty. After the tooth-carving, the warriors trained in the rain-sodden arena.

"I bet he has a better personality than you," Ellie slid back.

Loki hissed. "That's impossible."

"Everyone has an opinion. Personal preference is a thing on Midgard."

"But you're not on Midgard."

"I could be," she said, as a lost memory emerged. "In the future."

_"Contemplating the future?" Frigga had asked. She continued to watch the human make no change in her demeanour; walking down the stairwell, running her finger along the bannister. Frigga slipped into the close space between them, "or remembering the past?" _

_Ellie turned her head. "Both. I am thinking of a future that doesn't exist. Not anymore, anyway."_

_The Queen understood, she didn't reply but silently nodded in agreement that her thoughts were of a place both were glad she wasn't part of anymore. "Your carving suits you." _

_Touching the canine with a weary finger, Ellie grinned. "Only because you can't see it. If I bare my teeth at these wargs, I fear they'll simply laugh at me." She closed her mouth and touched the rune with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the odd grooves which crossed through the bone and sent ripples of energy through her. "I can feel its power," she commented._

"Can we make a detour to the Völva?" she asked quickly.

Loki shot her a look. "Why? Asking for fashion advice?"

"I'm losing time. Everything is going too quick. He might be able to… help me."

Together, they entered a small square where a fountain flowed behind a group of onlookers. They were preparing for an event. Loki narrowed his eyes and pulled Ellie's attention towards it. "You sound old," he said.

"Please," she scoffed. "You're fifteen times older than me."

A man in front of a small crowd leapt into view. He was stood next to a mini stage; a puppetry theatre. A group of giggling Elvish children ran past Ellie's legs and threw themselves in front of the man.

"I should go and get ready," Ellie said.

Loki raised a hand. "Wait. Listen. Stories make our world."

"Not all stories are good, though."

"All stories are good stories," Loki swaggered over to one of the stalls. The weary old woman waved a piglet around, calling for a buyer. Apparently, it was excellent pork. Ellie took the piglet and stroked his pink head. "Fine, I'll listen to the terrible stories. It'll take up more of my time."

"Are you sure you're not sleeping all the time?"

"I have weird dreams; forget and remember things," she admitted, scratching the piglet's head with a distracted sigh.

A puppet popped from beneath the frame, startling the children. It was a ruggedly dressed fellow; a peasant boy with dirty hair. The storyteller's voice was crystallised; echoing his tale rather formally. "Once there was a lad who went out to woo him a wife. A well-to-do wife. He travelled near and far; over mountains and rivers…. Until he came to a farmhouse full of a beggar family.

The wooing lad entered and the family… well, they wanted to be seen as rich folk, so the father shoved on his fanciest coat and told the lad to take a seat." Another puppet appeared, earning a giggle from the children. A tiny chair emerged, and the wooing-lad took a seat. His tiny, cotton puppet-legs sprung up in the air.

Prince Loki amusedly watched, his gaze flickering to the human girl as she attempted to hide her laugh.

"The father told the lad: '_take a seat! But mind the dust. Tis be a shocking sight in our humble home._" The storyteller flanked. "The mother appeared with a pair of fancy, new shoes on. She played along with her husband and cried: '_how untidy it is in here! Everything is out of place! Hilda, come down and put all of this mess to rights!_ ' The daughter appeared in a brand-new bonnet."

A female puppet popped up. How the storyteller had enough talent to do so, was unanswered and unquestionable. The puppet wore a bright pink hat, knocking out the Father and Mother over and over. The crowd snorted. "The daughter huffed: '_Only me? In such short time? Well, I can't be everywhere at once!_ ' The wooing lad saw what a well-to-do house he had come to and figured it was not such a good idea to find a well-to-do wife."

The wooing puppet shot out of the house and flew into the audience. Three children squabbled over it as the onlookers clapped merrily. Ellie joined in with them and concluded that she'd never heard such a confusing and pointless story.

The storyteller hurried his puppets away. Out popped two characters. They were farm animals. Midgardian creatures which were used in cooking and farming. She missed the taste of their meat in broth. "The tale of the Cock and the Hen!" the puppeteer cried.

The hen shook angrily: 'y_ou promise me shoes year after year, year after year, and yet I get no shoes!_ ' And the Cock replied: '_you shall have them, never fear! Henny Penny! _' Well, the Hen bristled: '_I lay egg after egg, egg after egg, and yet I go barefoot!_ ' So, the Cock said: '_Well, take your eggs, and be off to the tryst. Buy yourself shoes, and don't go any longer barefoot!_ '"

"Gods," he said. "They always spill foolish nonsense to capture your attention."

"It's doing the opposite. It's putting me off."

"You're as exciting a bag of a bones," Loki drawled.

With a scoff, Ellie hung onto the tiny pig and cradled it like a new-born babe. "Arguably a bag of bones could be exciting. I could be awarded a rune for uncovering a murder mystery."

"It's unusual for it to be a mystery. Some fool usually dishonours an honourable man and pays the price for it."

She returned the babe to its seller. "Have you ever taken a dishonourable man's life?"

The prince was not slow in answering. "Few. They are regretful and pitiful. It's a delicious sound, you know; hearing one beg for their life." It must've been uncommon to question a God, but Ellie had done so many times before. How different her life would've been if she had paid the price for doing so. "Do you spare them?" she struggled to hide her horror.

"Nay," he smirked down at her. "I have no need to."

A tremendous cheer echoed around them. The Ljósálfar children clapped and their elders urged the Aesir puppeteer for another story. "_Reisiligr! reisiligr! einn meiri_ !" he joyfully pranced back into his box. Feeling like a child, Ellie shook her head at the affair.

"Another tale, it is!" he cried. "The Fox as a Herdsman!"

"Oh, I love this one!" someone cried in delight. Ellie shared a look with Loki and was amusedly surprised to see he enjoyed the story as well.

The puppeteer shoved a bright red fox in the air and a blonde-haired farmer beside him. "Once there was a widowed farmer searching for a herdsman to help with her flocks. She came across a fox one day who asked: 'why not have me for your herdsman?' and the widow begged him to show her his best herding song. And so the fox sang: 'Dil-dal-holom!'"

The onlookers laughed, delighted by the puppeteer's tone.

"And the widow loved the fox's song! She said: 'yes, I will have you as my herdsman', and so the fox went into the widow's field. He sang his song and ate up all the woman's goats; the next day he sang for her sheep; the next day he sang for her kine. When he returned to the widow, she cried and begged for an answer. 'Oh!' said the fox, 'their skulls are in the stream, and their bodies in the holt.'

Now, the widow fell into such a rage that she snatched the nearest object. It was a can of cream! She threw it at the fox who ran off, but it caught the edge of his tail. It splattered a white splodge on his orange fur!" The puppeteer threw white cream at the crowd, spraying everything nearby and causing a ruckus of laughter. Ellie gasped as a splash caught her cheek.

"And that's why the fox has a white tip on his tail!" the puppeteer roared with delight. Everyone erupted with joy.

Even Ellie clapped and grinned at Loki childishly. "I feel like a child," she said. "Aren't stories meant to have some moral meaning?" The prince gave her a disappointed glare. Ellie sensed his discontent as they moved through the busy crowd and emerged out of the square and began the ascent up to the palace.

Lord Freyr was settled and waiting for them which unsettled Ellie. She focused heavily on the puppeteer's stories. "What do they mean?" she asked Loki.

"You really can't figure it out? Is your little Midgardian brain so stunted?" he said.

Ellie knew she wasn't stunted. She chewed the inside of her cheek and walked in silence.

"The first tale teaches them not to search for destiny," Loki said after a pensive pause. "We have to wait for it to come to us, or else we may end up in a terribly unhappy place."

Glancing up at him, she attempted lighten the mood. "Terribly unhappy marriage it seems."

They shared a wry grin. "The second teaches them not to wait on someone else," Loki then said. "If you want something, whether it be shoes for a hen's feet, you must take it upon yourself to get it."

"And the third tells you that your sins will stain you for life," she said half-heartedly. "We had stories like those when I was a child. Didn't stop some of us stealing the Sisters' gin bottles. They were stashed under the vegetable baskets in the kitchens." The prince raised an eyebrow, studying her for several seconds and coming to a conclusion Ellie didn't care to know.

"No. It's about becoming who you're meant to be." He turned and began the rest of the walk deeper into the palace. Ellie caught up with him, holding her skirts with one hand and feeling the clack of her heels. "The fox was already a carnivore. It devoured the livestock; that physical part of it was always there. Dormant under its exterior… but always there."

Ellie suddenly felt their conversation was not about a fox. She warily looked across at him and swallowed the lump in her throat. "What am I?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly. Their steps became quicker, brushing past guests and servants in a blur. "Loki," she nearly begged.

His dark gaze snapped to hers. He wrapped his slender fingers around her wrist, pulling her through an archway and into the ethereal serenity of the royal gardens. Unlike the town, the air was beautifully warm. The calmness it swept over Ellie was unwelcomed. She was hopelessly lost, her glistening eyes burning into the side of Loki's face.

"Where are we going?" their footsteps brushed onto grass. Fireflies blossomed out of the hedges, flying over their heads like embers. Ellie waved a hand, pushing them away desperately. She asked the prince again, but he said nothing.

They entered the Goddess Iduna's sanctuary.

The Idunn Tree swelled with angelic light. It illuminated the clearing with its beauty. Ellie glanced down at her form, finding herself bathed in gold. Her very skin seemed the shimmer. She followed it down to her fingertips, the ones laced in the prince's. He held her hand as if they were heading back onto the dancefloor, with his fingers pressed up into her palm.

"Why are we here?" she whispered, deathly afraid of his intentions. He pulled her forwards. There was no sight of Iduna. Her soft words wouldn't be as comforting as they once were. In fact, Ellie was petrified of being treated as an Asgardian equal; as one who belonged beneath the tree, eating from its branches. "I don't want to…"

"Yes, you do," he said.

Ellie forced her gaze down, unable to bare the beauty above them. "Where is the Goddess Iduna?"

"Celebrating with her beloved."

"No. She wouldn't leave the sanctuary like this. She wouldn't allow strangers in. We could steal the apples. You're lying to me."

"She doesn't have to leave the sanctuary to celebrate."

Clenching her fist, Ellie attempted to pull her other hand out of Loki's. He allowed it to slip several inches before he pushed his palm over the top of her hand, allowing his fingers to rest atop her wrist. "Please," Ellie said, "don't make me do this."

"Everyone has three voices: the one that everyone else hears, the one you hear when you speak and the one inside your head," Loki looked intently at Ellie. He raised an arm and dragged a finger along the underside of an apple. "What is the real difference between what you're saying aloud and what you're saying in your head? What's the truth?"

Loki had to be using some kind of magic when he looked down at her. Her chest was on fire. It crept up her throat, burning the back of her tongue. Heat stung her cheeks. "What if I die?" _You won't, _her mind whispered. Hope controlled her thoughts. It was nearly painful trying to resist them. "It's going to poison me," she said. _It won't_.

Loki's fingers drifted up her arm. They tantalisingly brushed over the goose-bumps and hair, boring his eyes into hers. He was cold – beautifully cooling the fire inside of Ellie. The fingertips slid over the shoulder, hesitating as they passed along her collarbone, up her neck and resting above the pulse.

For a startling moment, Ellie wanted his to wrap a hand around her throat. She was struggling to breathe anyway. Instead, he used a forefinger to coax her cheek and push a curl behind her ear. Then, she understood what he was doing.

Her own hand darted to the side of her head, touching the tip of her ear. Loki stepped past her. Ellie was frozen for several seconds.

"The only thing which poisons Elves is silver, did you know?" he said off-handedly, as if it was a sentence as casual as regarding the weather. Ellie quickly turned and stared after him, watching him until he disappeared out of the archway.

Turning back to the tree, she raised a hand and hesitated. Her bare wrist screamed at her. Ever since Ajun had wrenched her Rosary away, she had felt naked. The magic swimming from her soul and into her hand comforted the exposed skin and warmed the sinful hatred burning within. She watched an apple gracefully unpluck from a branch and float into her palm.

Her tongue drifted up to the rune. On the tip of her tongue, the Norse rune kissed her.

Ellie lifted the apple to her lips and took a bite, releasing its sweet contents into her throat.

She thought about the story of Adam and Eve in the garden, talking to the snake. When she was a girl, she used to believe Eve was a ruin; a sinner with no common sense. But now, as the delicacy of the apple touched her stomach and settled like a blossoming sugar cube, she understood Eve. By eating the apple, she destroyed the immensity of the Heavenly Father with _just_ her desire. How powerful she was in that moment. And it wasn't greed which drove the first sin, it was a need for knowledge; for answers.

When Eve received them, it must've been so _deliciously_ fulfilling.

* * *

**References**

_Reisiligr! reisiligr! einn meiri_ – Fine! Fine! One more!


	29. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

Worship of the Gods

_I find it odd - the greed of mankind.  
People only like you for as long as they perceive  
they can get what they want from you.  
Or for as long as they perceive you are  
who they want you to be.  
But I like people for all of their changing surprises,  
the thoughts in their heads,  
the warmth that changes to cold and  
the cold that changes to warmth...  
for being human.  
The rawness of being human delights me_

_C. Joybell._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

Ellie's body was aligned for the first time in months with a silk dress that flooded around her bare feet, pale purple shimmered with icy diamonds along the rim. The sleeves were fitted, pointed down the top of her hand to cover the bandage on her wrist. With her hair freshly washed and curled right down to her lower back; it was angelically arranged with some clipped away from her face whilst others trickled down her chest. Bathed in vanilla extract and oil to soothe her skin of the stench of training sweat and Midgardian blood

Her cheekbones had become more prominent when she looked at herself in the bath water, before washing Ellie was disgusted at the sickly dark bags beneath her eyes also. But after trusting her chambermaid to soak every inch of her aching body, she'd clambered out refreshed and a little brighter. An ointment was placed on her skin and mouth and she basked in the soft sunlight of Asgard, her eyes watering in admiration for the soothing hands of Cecelia.

The Queen had returned Cecelia to her care for that night, as well as several Eldir. They discovered her wandering through the gardens in a humming daze and swept her back into her chambers. Her _royal_ chambers.

When she was clean, the Eldir helped her from the water and brushing her hair until it shone like molten bronze. An elderly Eldir anointed accacia berry and vanilla perfume on Ellie's wrist, behind her ears, down the valley of her breasts and a dab down between her legs. They dressed her in wispy violet material which Freyr had sent. It was a gown of expensive grandur, the sleeves fell off her shoulders in rings of purple material, soft to touch. It covered her cleavage and chest, exposing collarbone and neck.

The old servant slid gold bracelets crusted with amethysts around her wrists and a ring emblazoned with ancient Norse glyphs. She wanted to know what they said: good luck? Don't trip? Run as fast as you can? As the taste of apple left her mouth, she regained her human senses and held a hand to her cheek; scarcely able to recognize herself.

"Now you look all a princess," Cecelia said breathlessly when they were done. Ellie glanced over at the looking glass that had been placed in her room. _An Asgardian_, she thought, but she remembered what Loki had said, how you could sniff out the stench of a Midgardian from realms away.

She sipped a mint concoction and washed her mouth of Iduna's sweetness. A sudden chill rippled up her arms.

Lounn was waiting in the cool corridor, seated on the stone wall, looking out across Asgard. He rose when Ellie appeared and looked over her with a fascinated glaze.

"Ellie," he greeted. "You look so..."

"Foolish," she said. "I feel like a sheep in wolves' clothing; everyone knows I am of Midgard."

"But you are not!" Lounn gushed. "Something is happening to you, Ellie. You're changing, look at you. You're almost glowing."

She looked down at herself and held out her arms. It had to have been the apple. Or perhaps Loki was tricking her; tricking the people of Asgard into seeing her as a newly found woman before she died of food poisoning. She strained to see the miracle that her friend was witnessing, as usual her skin was the same color it had been when she got there.

"She's too skinny," a sharp voice hissed. Ellie looked around at Malai, she was walking beside another member of the Guard, both on their way to the grand hall. Her hair, a spectacular silver-white was pulled back into a messy braid. It must've meant something, the brown beads interlocked in it were covered in runes.

Lounn scowled. "We'll see who will be dancing with the God of Alfheim, won't we?"

"I suppose," Malai said doubtfully as she walked past. With her back to them, her voice hissed, "those Gods have queer tastes; boys, horses, sheep. You'll fit right in, Midgardian."

Taking the bitter words in her stride, Ellie stuck her nose up and allowed Lounn to escort her down to the Throne Room. Hundreds of Elves and Asgardians skipped along the same corridor, from every corridor in fact. They conjoined in a harmony of excited chatter. It wasn't just the arrival of the Freyr which was to be commemorated, but the warriors being granted their arm rings.

Lanterns hung from the ceiling above, from the nature outside and in the sky. They were magically suspended to recreate the appearance of stars. Only these were in touching distance. As they reached the archway, Ellie came to a stop and reached for one. It was a ball of light; warm and electric in her hands.

"Is that your companion for this night?" Lounn grinned, plucking another from the air. It basked his face in white light, emphasising his strong features which had been accentuated by months of training. They walked inside the Throne Room with laughter on their lips and met the joyous chatter of ten thousand guests. In front of them was the upper half of the hall, where royalty stood discussing private affairs. Ellie spotted Lord Freyr swinging three of his children on his arms like a climbing frame.

Beside him, his wife and the Queen Mother were in a deep conversation. Odin was studying the hall with his single, all-seeing eye. His Godly sons were heartily rejoicing over a horn of ale. Ellie eyed them until they caught her gaze and both looked over. In Loki's gaze, they shared a wordless acceptance of the Iduna Sanctuary's revelation. Ellie quickly became overwhelmed, looking down at the lantern.

Lounn allowed his to drift back up. In turn, Ellie lifted her hand, pushing hers into the air. Light glistened over her, showering her bland eyes with white power.

They joined their warrior companions quickly and engaged in festive games until Odin offered a speech about the Light-Elves. Then there was a merriment of dancing, singing and drinking. Ellie sipped her water, watching the Ljósálfar younglings dancing with a bounty of lanterns. She noticed that the balls of light would brighten when held by them. A girl threw hers up in the air, catching it and running with it excitedly. She sprinted with a group of other children and tripped, throwing the lantern towards Ellie.

Fluidly catching it in one hand, Ellie smiled down at the girl. "Careful," she said. "You don't want to break it."

The youngling took it, grinning up at her. "Thanks a bunch. Do you want me to get you one?"

"No, I'm alright with, uh, holding this." She lifted her water.

"But every one of us has to have one."

"I already let one go earlier. I don't need another."

The youngling shook her head fiercely. "No," she gripped the lantern. "You need your own."

"Do I?" Ellie grinned widely. "Very well. Where can I find one?"

Darting into the crowd, the Elven child disappeared for several moments before re-emerging with an unlit ball. It was smoky grey and cold to touch. Ellie placed her water down and crouched, taking ahold of it. "How do I light it?"

"You light it," the girl said.

"How? You'll have to teach me. I'm not good at this."

Placing her tiny hand on her lantern, the youngling closed her eyes. Her lantern went dark immediately. With a deep inhale, the girl compelled the lantern to blossom like a star. Ellie copied the girl, holding her palm out on the glass. Within her, the magic gushed and swam into the tips of her fingers. She chewed the inside of her cheek, urging the power to snake into the glass. There was a childish gasp from the youngling.

Ellie opened her eyes, surprised by the lantern in her hands. It was glowing. She held onto it tightly, concentrating on the magic staying alive. The youngling took it with her hands. "Wait," Ellie said, "it'll go out if I let go."

"No, it won't. I swears it."

With a regretful sigh, Ellie allowed the girl to take it. She was sure the lantern would flicker and die, but it stayed alight. A smile grew on her face. "You were right," she got to her feet. "It didn't go out."

"You are one of us," the little one pushed the lantern into the air. "Why'd you think it'd go out?"

Ellie pushed a plait back, revealing human ears. "I'm not one of you."

The youngling touched the tip of Ellie's ear curiously. Wonder widened her eyes. "My name's Genevieve."

"Really?" a memory from long ago sprung to Ellie's mind. She crouched again, taking the youngling's hand. "That's my name. I have two."

"Oh..." she gasped, "why?"

"Well," Ellie admitted. "I have two names. My real name is Ellie, but when I was a little girl like you, I had to choose the name of a powerful woman in order to grow up. I chose Genevieve." They shared a large smile. The youngling held Ellie's hand tighter.

"Can you dance with us?"

At first, she was reluctant, but the hefty hall hid her well. She followed the youngling and came upon a gathering of Elves. They were singing and dancing, swinging youngling about and pushing lanterns into the air. Genevieve yanked her into the crowd, maniacally laughing. She took the child's hands and pranced in a circle. They were both giggling, overjoyed with the new company and comfort of Asgard. Another took ahold of her hand, pulling her into a great circle of Ljósálfar younglings. They were gracefully tugging and pushing, laughing loudly and skipping to the lutes' tune.

Breathlessly, she slowed and dipped out of their celebrations. She clapped with the music, cheering for them to continue. Their song came to an end, much to their groaning distaste. Ellie copied the pout of Genevieve who hurried over to her, taking her hand.

"Your turn!" she cried. "Your turn! Sing us a song!"

"A song? I, uh, don't think I know many."

"Oh, you must know one," she beckoned the others to gather round her. "Tell her!"

"Sing to us! Sing to us!" they cawed, turning Ellie's cheeks pink. With a finalized ripple of excitement, they sat down like a childlike gathering of story-time. Genevieve squeezed her fingers, pulling her to the ground which warmed Ellie's heart. She touched the Ljósálfar's cheek with a smile.

It was a surge of otherworldly pride which compelled her to begin the tale. Norse fables didn't require someone with a voice for singing, just an enthusiasm and ability to stick to one tune. There was a Midgardian song used by the orphanage which told the story of angels providing peace to humans; as well as a beautiful afterlife where they would continue to keep them safe.

Ellie's soul felt connected to two worlds. She met the eyes of the Allfather, Freyr and then Lounn. "I present a tale from my world," she declared, earning a cheer from the younglings. Looking down at Genevieve, she whispered: "this is about angels from my world." The lutes began slowly behind her. She took ahold of a drum and began:

_It came upon the midnight clear,_

_That glorious song of old,_

_From valkyries banding near Yggdrasil ,_

_To touch their harps of gold:_

_"Peace on Asgard, goodwill to men_

_From Valhalla's all gracious God!"_

_The world in solemn stillness lay_

_To hear the valkyries sing._

There was a swollen gathering of singers; onlookers, guests and the choir alike fluidly joined in with the story. Ellie's fingers brushed the drum and she closed her eyes. Her mind swam with the vision of winged horses and shieldmaidens fighting in the sky above:

_Still through the cloven skies they come,_

_With peaceful wings unfurled;_

_And still their heavenly music floats_

_O'er all the weary world:_

_Above its sad and lowly plains_

_They bend on hovering wing,_

_And ever o'er its Babel sounds_

_The blessed valkyries sing._

_O ye beneath life's crushing load,_

_Whose forms are bending low,_

_Who toil along the climbing way_

_With painful steps and slow;_

_Look now, for glad and golden hours_

_Come swiftly on the wing;_

_Oh rest beside the weary road_

_And hear the valkyries sing._

_For lo, the days are hastening on,_

_By prophets seen of old,_

_When with the ever-circling years_

_Shall come the time foretold,_

_When Midgard and Asgard shall own_

_The God of Thunder and Mischief and their King,_

_And the whole world send back the song_

_Which now the valkyries sing._

Enthralled by the rendition to a race of warriors long lost, the Lord Freyr rose from his seat and clapped. The enter hall had ceased their individual merriment, to listen to the small Ljósálfar gathering Ellie stirred around her. The hall followed Freyr's actions, cheering in memory of the Valkyries. A heartwarming pride blossomed in Ellie's chest. She stood and smiled up at the Queen Mother, who was wiping tears away. The Ljósálfar younglings clapped, touching her hands and arms as she looked down at them. There was an overwhelming connection which Ellie couldn't shake away. Genevieve stared up at her with wonderous eyes, her mouth open and baring a toothy smile.

Stepping out of their group, Ellie moved towards the upper table. Lounn appeared beside her as another group of Ljósálfar sang their song. "Góðr," he took the drum from her and placed a kiss on her forehead. "You're meant to be here. You always have." Ellie's eyes swelled. She laughed through them and touched her friend's cheek.

Nodding through her joyous tears, she looked back up to the royal family. Frigga raised a hand towards her and she gathered her skirts, leaving Lounn to cheer with Gustav.

Freyr took her hand as soon as she was within reach. He pulled her towards him and smiled paternally. "You have changed so much, little Midgardian," he said. From his touch, Ellie was lost with her words. She swallowed as her heart raced. It must've been the Iduna's magic. Something, a memory or a word, was on the tip of her tongue and she couldn't quite reach it. But now, she knew it was there.

The Elvish king's eyes bore into hers. His aged face shone with hundreds of years of battle, heartbreak and loneliness. Ellie swore she felt his pain; it scratched inside of her brain like a creature.

She began: "my Lord…"

"As the Lord's advisor, I must request the first dance on behalf of my superior," a voice interrupted, startling Ellie. She pulled her hand out of Freyr's and stared at Aelfred.

"Of course," Freyr said, his voice distant. "I shall the hand of the Queen if I may have the pleasure."

The two fluently took a turn about the floor. Aelfred's hand was tightly gripping her waist and hand, leading their path. Against the tall oak walls, their attire appeared beautifully grafted and hooked the attention of many. They became a true pair.

The Gods of Asgard were watching Elia with brute fascination. Immersed in how easy the mortal weaved through others as if a hot knife through butter; Aelfred was the one fighting to keep up with her.

Ellie began to feel the haze of wine the faster she moved. She looked away from Aelfred in fear she would embarrass herself and so focused on their clasped hands. The man was pleasant and sour which disturbed her. It was difficult to tell whether he relaying good news to Freyr or bad. By the appearance of the Ljósálfar's Lord, it must've been the positive he spoke of.

They crossed the floor, taking on another's hand. Ellie exhaled, wishing she had someone other than the bitter, wrinkled advisor in front of her.

"I must say," he controlled the dance, pulling Ellie sideways. "The younglings have taken to you well."

"They're lovely." Ellie thought of them fondly. "So clever. Despite what is happening to their world."

"What exactly do you know?"

Blinking, she frowned up at him. "Well, I… just know. I can't explain it. I just know they suffer."

"How peculiar," he murmured. His breath wafted over Ellie's face, filling her with the uncomfortably sweet scent of a herb she'd never smelled before. With a cough, she squeezed her eyes together and left the dancing to Aelfred. He moved brutally quickly, swinging and tilting every few moment.

In his sickly sweet breath, Ellie could taste the apple in her mouth. It consumed her. She swallowed and found the taste stuck; choking.

As she swirled and spun around the room, her mind began to become hazy. She fought to concentrate on Aelfred's hands strung tightly on her waist and hand, she was no longer feeling his warm skin on hers but nothing. Blinking, she found the hall to be full of different guests. They were beautifully grafted against the tall walls made of old oak.

She watched in awe of their golden hair and sparkling complexion, several looked at her and smiled warmly, as if old friends. These beings were far taller than her, dressed in gowns of flowing water and starlight, eyes glowing bright yellow and purple. Ellie was thrown back into another time, she looked down at her gown and found she was several feet shorter, her hair was past her knees and her hands were that of a child.

_"Eurelia, come say hello to your grandfather!" an angelic voice called._

She gasped and stumbled backwards, out of Aelfred's grasp.

"My Lady," he aggressively scolded, gripping her hands.

Ellie clutched her chest, feeling nauseous. "I… I'm sorry I…"

"Am in need of a new partner," a cool voice ordered. Like fresh, spring water, the prince's presence washed over her and enveloped her. Only she wasn't drowning. She took Loki's hand and took a wavering step out of Aelfred's grasp. He bristled aggressively and stormed back to his seat.

Loki brushed his fingers across her forehead, soothing Ellie's jumbled mind. The… vision disappated, becoming an experience she didn't want to confront just yet. At least, not tonight.

"You are ravishing this 'Eve," he said, earning a scoff from her. "Well rested. Well cleaned and… well fed."

"Don't," she said, following his lead.

"Don't what? Did you manage to find your way out of the sanctuary? I had royal affairs to attend to. I am _dreadfully_ sorry for leaving you… unattended."

"No, you're not. You're a God of Mischief."

"I am _the_ God," he said, fluidly manoeuvring them between the other dancers. He lapsed into comfortable silence, relaxing beneath her hands when he figured she wasn't going to trip over his feet.

Ellie felt a warm ripple of intimacy emerge between them, mainly due to his relaxed composure and ability to trust Ellie with harrowing memories. Her gaze settled on the tip of his jaw, just below his ear lobe. The last time she had been intimate with a man was so long ago, the memory was like a footprint on a beach. It was being washed away by the sea; filled in with new memories. She swelled with mourning. To be so close to man, even standing; dancing, meant different energies were intermingling. Gods, she had spent too many hours with Tamra.

But it was undeniable. The air was hot with sparking atoms; bouncing off each other and colliding. They hit Ellie's skin and ping-ponged back to the prince. She chewed the inside of her cheek and looked up at his face, meeting his blue eyes.

"It didn't poison me," she said in the silence. "The apple… the apple meant for Aesir didn't hurt me. I felt…"

"Heavenly," he said.

"Am I of Asgard?" she shot a glance over the other dancers, worry knotting her brows.

Loki's lowered head rose to cast a glance behind her. "Would you want to be? Most are frivolous and greedy." She followed his gaze to a group of Aesir who stood watching them from their table. They hid behind their hand, giggling and whispering to one another. Half of them ogled Thor and the other were focused on Loki.

"Their heart's desire is to bed a prince," he said. "The binding ceremony is a rather erotic affair."

Ellie studied the guests. "Why? Do you have to have sex once you receive your armring?" Indeed, their eyes twinkled in the starlight at the sight of Loki and Thor Odinson. She remembered giving crushes the same look after a few pints of beer.

The prince laughed gently. "It's a spiritual event. You must exchange energy with another. Some find it… erotic." With a hazardous nod, Ellie lowered her gaze back to Loki's throat. "It's only fleeting," she said, "they'll sober up soon and realise it wasn't worth it."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Alcohol pushes our deepest thoughts out of hiding."

"Is that why you're not drinking?" Ellie flexed her fingers between his. They'd been dancing for several minutes; their bodies held in a strict formation. "Afraid of what you'll say to me?"

Loki's gaze flickered from the giggling hens and to Ellie. He raised an eyebrow and she felt stupid suddenly. "If I want to indulge in you, I would've done so. Or do you believe I'm hiding behind my pretty voice?"

Overwhelmed by the events of the evening; the singing, memory, dancing and Loki, she snapped her gaze away. The Allfather was on his feet. The Lord Freyr was no longer dancing. He was watching her; waiting for the true reason of his arrival.

Ellie had supressed the final task's existence for weeks. Since being healed, she pretended the excessive training was Asgardian normality. The magic lessons with Loki were just him admiring her company. All of it was a lie.

She was preparing.

"Is it time?" she asked, her voice dropping to a frightened whisper.

"Do you remember what I told you?" he said, his voice burning her inner ear.

Ellie nodded. "It's a fire inside of me."

"And?" he slid his fingers through her palm and down to her wrist, wrapping them around it. Soon, a arm ring would sit there. "Silver poisons Elves," she whispered. Excitement danced in his steel eyes.

He released her hands, his gaze drifting to the Norse Gods which waited for Ellie.

* * *

References

**Góðr **– Old Norse for brave, noble and good.

**It Came Upon a Midnight Clear **– an 1849 poem used at Christmas, but I changed the lyrics to match the Norse mythology to aid Ellie's narrative.

**Genevieve** \- In Catholicism, there is a confirmation ceremony where you are accepted into the Church by choosing the name of a Saint based on virtues.

* * *

**Author's Note**: YOOOOOOOOOOO THE CLIP OF LOKI IN THE MARVEL TRAILER. MY READERS I HAVE SO MANY PLANS.

I have written the vast majority of the non-movie part of this story and chapters leading into the movies. Ellie plays a very important role throughout the second Thor, namely as it includes the Dark Elves. Thank you for reading. My love to you.


	30. A Daughter of the Nine Realms

Worship of the Gods

_The ancients believed in Fate because they  
recognized how hard it is for anyone to change anything.  
The pull of past and future is so strong  
that the present is crushed by it.  
We lie helpless in the force  
of patterns inherited and patterns  
re-enacted by our own behaviour.  
The burden is intolerable_.

Jeanette Winterson, The Myth of Atlas and Heracles

* * *

Chapter Thirty: A Daughter of the Nine Realms 

Under the curious gaze of the Asgardians, the Ljósálfar disappeared from the halls under the orders of Odin the Allfather. They were left to merrily sing the time away before the arm-ring ceremony.

Ellie slipped from the room under Loki's magic, drawing no attention from her peers. Tyr pressed her through a number of thin corridors until they reached an underground system of rooms unknown to the ground-level kingdom. The walls were made of dark stone, carved by hand to form a sinister underworld. Lining the walls were flickering torches and the floor beneath Ellie's feet echoed with their footsteps.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Ellie shook, clutching her skirts tightly. "I don't…"

Tyr shot her an impressed glance. "You're ready for it, lass."

"No, no. When I say: _'I don't think'_, I mean: I am not ready."

"You got your magic. You got your training. You can do this."

They rounded a corner, entering an armoury. There was a smelting room through another door, spewing heat and flickers of fire. Ellie craned her neck, her eyes landing on a group of muscled Asgardians. They beat their hammers against their anvils, fashioning well-round arm-rings. Ellie subconsciously touched her empty wrist.

"You do this," Tyr clutched a sword in his hand, "you get one of those."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were." Throwing the weapon at her, Ellie caught it roughly and gripped it tight. It was firm in her grasp, both light and strong. The sword had been made for royalty, not a throwaway training session in the lower town.

Tyr watched her a fleeting moment. He was a man of few words. "I'll see you out there. Get strapped together." For a moment, he hesitated, clenching his fists and opening his mouth again. Ellie watched him, deeply lost and needing a hand to pull her out of the darkness threatening to drown her.

But he huffed, waved a hand and disappeared out of the archway. Out of the shadow of his exit, a roar of clapping and cheering echoed. The muffled sound of Odin's voice drifted through followed by Freyr. Ellie chewed her fingernails.

Another voice, softer and kinder than their excitement echoed behind Ellie. She turned, her posture tightening as Frigga drifted into the room with the crowned princes on either side.

"How are we feeling, little bird?" she said, her hand reaching for Ellie's. They held one another tenderly. Ellie realised she was using most of her energy not to shake.

"Well," she said. "I'm well. Are you… all?"

Thor scoffed. He crossed his arms, flashing the steel gauntlets he always bore. "Adequately merry, little Midgardian. My jealously proceeds me. I dearly wish it were I battling in front of the Ljósálfar. To hear the roar of a Light-Elf… with my blood-soaked hammer, robes and soul. To rip the heart of a warg out and hold it aloft as they call for me…"

Frigga raised a hand, silencing him. "Yes, my son," she said. "Let us not dwell on your past winnings." Ellie scarcely heard her. She held a hand to her mouth, feeling sick rising up her throat. A soundless burp surpassed her lips. The Queen turned back to her, squeezing her hand.

"It is nearly time. We must take our places, but we will see you shortly. Nodding, Ellie felt the angelic kiss of the Queen-Mother on her forehead and then the fluttering of her silk robes as they headed out of the room. Thor clamped a hand on her back, knocking her forward. Beside him, Loki silently disappeared after their Mother.

Finally, she was alone. With a whimper, she fell to her knees, pressing her palms to the stone. She closed her eyes and lapsed into a gracious silence. No longer were the cheers of the Ljósálfar echoing through her mind, or the prince's voice, but blissful silence. She was floating on an ocean; with the blue Midgardian sky above her and the heavenly deepness of the sea below.

"Heavenly Father," she said, "I have left your world but carry your love with me. If I am your daughter, then bless me with your strength. Children are of two. I am yours as I am theirs and I worship you as I do, them. Heavenly Father, let me be the daughter of a God this night."

She gripped her mouth tighter, closing her eyes. The real world washed over her. It was no longer world of angelic sea salt and Midgard, but the cold underworld of Asgard.

The raven prince reappeared through the archway, his drifting over her trembling form. "Fuck… fuck…" Ellie shook her head, humming in an attempt to stop herself being sick.

Loki clenched his teeth. He pushed a hand up her back, frightening her enough to jump to her feet. Before she could trip, he grabbed her arm and steadied her. She breathed heavily, staring at him in alarm. "W-what are you doing?" she attempted to move away, but he held her there. The prince closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to her temple. Ellie watched the wrinkle on his forehead deepen.

"Your anxiety will ruin this for you, "he said coolly. "This night, my father will judge us both. My ability to train the untrainable and your reliability in returning the Alkár."

"But I…"

"Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your sweat will become potent any second. Quiet."

Ellie closed her mouth immediately and allowed Loki to continue his work. She felt her mind begin to soften. The headache disappeared and her thoughts became clear.

She was going to prove to Odin that she was more than a Midgardian.

Loki opened his eyes. For a moment, they shimmered with electric blue power. It swam against his irises as tangled snakes before sinking into his frontal lobe and disappearing. When Ellie inhaled, she tasted the ale on his breath. And there were words screaming in her head: _you are a child of Yggdrasil_. _You are power and beauty and light_. _You are a shadow and you will dance like one._

Ellie nodded proudly, exhaling the final slithers of worry. She smiled slightly, holding onto the back of Loki's hand for a moment. He bowed, closing his eyes and pulled his body away.

Unable to bring herself to watch him go, she stared ahead and continued strapping her armour to herself.

The Ljósálfar roared.

* * *

**The Torque Ceremony**

In the intimate hall, a handful of Ljósálfar, Asgardians and guards joined the warriors in their arm-ring celebration. The air was hot with breath and heartbeats. A crackling fire exhumed a thin, hazy blanket of grey. Loki was mischievously correct; it was intimate.

Ellie stood between Lounn and Naeva, waiting in line for Odin. She rolled her head against her shoulders, feeling the tingle of magic sizzling her insides still. Her body would be sore tomorrow, but it would be a delicious ache. When Odin had raised the barrier, granting her entrance into the arena, she was surprised at the landscape before her. They had built a version of Alfheim's terrain. Across the weaving hills and trees, was the Alkar Tree. It was rather mundanely sized. If it were true, they would've needed a bigger arena.

Ellie was scarcely able to fathom the energy rippling around her; packed with honour, pride and tension.

_"In the name of the Allfather, the Protector of the Nine Realms, I present the saviour of the Alkar stone," Odin boomed. _

Lounn gently rubbed a hand on her shoulder. They smiled at one another. He had been in the crowd, watching and cheering for her. By the kind invitation of the Queen, the warriors had been invited to attend. She hadn't noticed him at first, or anyone particularly. They were so far up.

Traversing over the uneven ground had been a task in itself. She had clambered up a hill as Thor called for the trial to begin and a pair of oak doors swung open. Out of the darkness, wargs came barrelling out. They were ginormous, their feet trembled the ground; hammering an intangible beat. She swung her sword up, slashing the jaw of the first creature as smooth as butter. It howled, flying back. Unlike her night on the bridge, the creatures weren't as strong.

Or… she was stronger.

Hurtling towards the pack, she sliced and pranced between them. Grunting with each swipe, she ducked and dove out of their snapping jaws. She was a shadow, dancing like one and emerging in the lantern light as an assassin. An animalistic feeling crept over her. She had tightened her jaw, a hiss emerging from between her teeth.

Sprinting towards the tree, she had been ambushed by a warg. Her reactions were quick. She stretched backward, her back arching to miss the creature's teeth as they ghosted her chest. With her sword, she cut a clean line up its throat and splattered blood across her face. Its form crumpled just above her in a heavy heap.

Once she had reached the tree, she came to a shaking halt in front of it. Sweat caked her back and chest. It dribbled blood into her eyes, making them sting so she rubbed them furiously with her gloved finger. The trial had not been that short and sweet. When she turned, looking up at the royal box, her eyes found Loki Odinson's first. He had been sat watching her with his forefinger against his lips. There was no emotion on his face. Thor was on his feet, his arms crossed. The Queen held Odin's arm.

The crowd were taunt and painfully silent. And then there was a rattling from all around the arena. She whipped her gaze to the dozens of oak doors lining the arena walls. They were moving. The bolts rattled; threatening to uncage whatever creature fought within.

And then the doors burst. A hundred wargs shot out with snarls on their faces and hatred in their teeth. Ellie had gasped, stepping back until she hit the tree. It hadn't taken long to come to the decision to discard her sword. She tossed it aside, earning a gasp from the crowd.

The thought on her mind was that she wasn't a shadow. She wasn't a dancer. With fire in her heart and the magic of Asgard swirling a storm within her, she could be a monster who called for the attention of any enemy. A surge of emotion had overcome her. The pounding of paws, the silence of the stadium and her thumping heart.

_Exhaling shakily, Ellie closed her eyes. Just her. Only her. _

_Loki stood up abruptly. _

_She raised her hand, spreading her fingers wide. In a single beat, Loki and Frigga felt the atmosphere shift. There was a choking moment where they felt the energy being drained from them. _

_Slamming a fist down, dirt and earth ruptured beneath her. There was a tsunami of debris barrelling across the arena, obliterating the wargs into fine dust. _

"You have, uh, blood in your hair," Lounn picked a braid, pulling the crust out of it. "Should I be afraid of you now?"

"Why?"

"You're powerful."

"I have a feeling the Queen was helping me." She checked the progress of the royals, catching Thor's eye as he stood beside his father. "I just felt it consuming me, like I was filling up from the bottom of my feet."

The woman hovered in front of his face with a dark, brooding frown. She reached, holding his scalp and pressing her lips to the sweat and skin of his mouth. Thor smirked, stepping back when the act was done. The next man wished for Frigga. She watched her strain to reach his height, standing up on her toes to kiss his beard; their eyes were dark.

Dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair and mouths. These warriors looked like they had walked out of a shadow with it still clinging to them like disease did to death. Next along was the one with the axe draped over his shoulder, it was wet and dripping death's rain across the stone floor. His hair was caked in pieces of animal meat, the redness dribbled down his cheeks and uneven, marred skin. He was from another training group, one which had hunted beforehand and presented the evening's feast.

"I wish for a blessing from the daughter of the Nine Realms," he said. The room turned to Ellie. She swallowed, looking at Odin for permission. He nodded curtly, glancing At Lord Freyr who stood watching her.

Ellie swallowed. The man had runes plaited in his beard and eyebrows. He was a fierce fighter; having earned every inch of his arm ring, Ellie couldn't deny granting him his wish.

She waited for him to request a press of her lips to the cheek, forehead, to the mouth or eyelid. Each one preferred their blessing on a different place, sacred to what the ceremony meant. Her own kiss would imprint on Ellie until death.

"Kiss me there," he murmured; his jaw was set. Ellie wanted to rip his weapon from him and bury it deep into his skull.

But she did not argue. Touching his shoulder and pulled him down and her lips met the liquid on his face. Pulling away, it left a string of saliva mixed with blood that hit her; blood coated her plump lower lip. Ellie met the hooded gaze of him, he was looking at her mouth and she felt cold. Her gaze lifted to meet Loki Odinson across the room.

And hot. She felt hot all of a sudden, heat pooled around her like a cloud. Remaining unemotional and detached was part of her job, she pushed a hand against his cheek and in the moment placed her mouth on his. The warm blood blossomed against her teeth and tongue, flushed lips burning up like she was allergic.

"Earth and Salt-rock, to bind you to the roots of Yggdrasil and sea of the universe," Odin held the sword to her, his eye intently on her face.

Ellie took the dirt and salt, crunching them together between her teeth. She swallowed it, repulsed by the gritty river they made traversing down her throat.

"I choose the Queen Mother," she said, her hand still in Frigga's. With a bow, she closed her eyes. The Goddess smiled warmly and pressed her lips to the girl's forehead. She held a hand to her cheek and met Ellie's gaze with pride.

With tears in her eyes, Ellie sniffed and held her wrist. She had missed the weight of jewellery on her; its solidity and firmness. She felt whole again and wished for the torque to be similar to a charm bracelet so a cross could dangle against her palm every so often. Still, it was enough.

Her gaze snapped to the Allfather, who gave her a curt nod. She swore there was a smile dancing in his single, all-seeing eye.

* * *

**One Hour Later**

**The Throne Room**

"Is it beginning to burn thy flesh?" an icy voice said behind her. Ellie jumped, her head snapping to Loki Odinson who appeared at her side in a fluidly jarring instant.

"No," she hissed. In truth, she had left it on top of her sleeve. She enjoyed the sensation of wristwear far too much to have it ruined by any truth. If she didn't look at it, she could pretend it was a rosary bound around her.

"Show me," he said.

"I'm not a circus freak. I'm normal. Look," she held her arm up.

"Normal?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Not like that. I mean nothing is normal anymore. I mean, I won't indulge you with this Ljósálfar nonsense anymore."

"Indulge me in this, then," he used his finger to guide Ellie's head up. She took notice of the dancing hall for the first time after the ceremony. Having been hidden against the stone wall, she was consumed with her own worries and torments to notice. There were no younglings, or singing. It was a rich, vibrant atmosphere full of gold glitter raining down upon them. Only the torque-holders and grown Ljósálfar were left.

"What's happening? Their bodies are…" she stared as they danced. There was something strangely erotic about how they moved around one another. None of them touching but looping and meeting the curve of each other's movements. A gold brush of wind swept into her hair, sending a shiver up her spine.

"Come," the prince said.

"I…" she shook, "I'm not your slave. You can't command me when I'm… afraid of… this."

"No?" Loki whispered, "fear me, love me, let me rule you and I will be _your_ slave, Eurelia." His fingers gently teased the fragile flesh of her neck, tightening ever so slightly.

The action caused Ellie's lips to part, a weak gasp leaving her. "My Lord…" She stared up at him, consumed by desire and unabridged worship; wanting to tell him she would, she would do anything he pleased. He was her saviour; from mundanity and inferiority.

With a ginger nod, Loki led her into the crowd. He walked backwards, eyes on her and yet knowing where everyone was at the same time. People parted for them, too involved in their own ritual to care.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Eurelia's body moved to the deep hum of a voice. She pushed a hand up against her chest, feeling the drum's vibrations leave goose bumps over her. Doing this on Earth, at a nightclub, would have been ridiculous to her; she wouldn't know how to move. However, her blood seemed to know exactly.

Rolling her head on her shoulders, she moved her ribs up and felt her body release pent up anxiety. Fresh air entered her nose. She felt free. The music became louder. Faster.

Ellie was rolling against the warm air of bodies. It was the most enticing thing she'd ever experienced. Another feeling came to her, one that felt like a hundreds of hands coaxing her very soul. Her eyelids were not black with dark, but with shimmering purples, pinks and greens. Her own being emitted a colour palette of azure.

She opened her eyes and saw blue. A comforting ocean blue where she sank; drunk on salt and ice. Unafraid and a slave to the enticement of Asgard, she dropped her neck back and allowed the blue to sweep over her front.

Until the torque touched her flesh and sizzled like grease on a frying pan.

* * *

**References**: fear me, love me, let me rule you and I will be _your_ slave – a line from Labyrinth. Jareth has my heart. I just could envision Loki being the same; enticing Ellie into listening. He is a trickster afterall.

**Comment**: LORD WHAT A CHAPTER – SO HEAVY AND FULL OF SOFT-CORE NORSE.


	31. The Sickness of Secrets and Silver

**Worship of the Gods**

_People are rivers, always ready to move  
from one state of being into another.  
It is not fair, to treat people  
as if they are finished beings.  
Everyone is always becoming and unbecoming._

Kathleen Winter

* * *

Chapter Thirty-One: The Sickness of Secrets and Silver

Barraging into an Aesir guard, Ellie was thrust out of the hall and onto her knees. She grasped her arm to her chest, grunting in a heap of confusion. The prince was gone. He had become lost in the heavenely dancing and was unaware of his surroundings. Still slightly intoxicating on the ecstasy of it all, Ellie panted and collapsed again against the wall.

"God," she hissed, staring up at the gold canopy.

"I'm with her," a voice cried. "Let me through."

Ellie's hazy vision attempted to focus on her dark haired figure wrenching his arm out of a guard's grasp. She frowned at her Aesir friend. "Lounn, what are you doing?"

"Are you alright?" he sank to his knees, reaching for her. "I saw you scream."

"Weren't you dancing?"

"No," he said. "My partner preferred the company of Thor. Who was I to deny that? I stopped a while ago and just found myself watching."

With a shaky exhale, she held her arm out. "It touched me. It hurt. I felt like my heart was going to explode."

"Let's just pull it off. It won't do much harm if we…" he took the torque and pulled it over an inch of skin. A startling sizzle erupted from her. With a screech, she hurriedly shoved the torque back over the sleeve and stared at Lounn in disbelief. "You bastard."

"Stop being such a-"

"Don't you dare," Ellie seethed. The skin continued to sting. Both of their gazes were trained on the blistering skin. It continued to bubble like the top of a burning soup. Ellie squeezed her lips together and screamed.

Lounn, panicking slightly at their lone, unaided situation held his hands at a distance. "If we quickly yank it-"

"No, Lounn!" she wretched.

"Okay! Okay, just don't - don't look at it!"

"What good does that do?"

"Well, usually it hurts more if you look at the wound–"

"I think it _hurts_ regardless."

"Out of my way!" an official and regel tone echoed in the doorway. It was a man Ellie prayed she wouldn't have to encounter again. The slender spokesman stormed between the guards. It was clear he hadn't been dancing; most definitely spying on behalf of his Lord.

"Aelfred?" Ellie stared as he thrust the goblet towards her. "What is that?"

"You must take this. It will help," he icily forced the words; empathy was foreign to him.

Sweat glued hair to her cheeks and forehead. It was difficult to grip the drink; her skin was too slippery. Lounn held a hand around hers and steadily pressed the goblet to her lips. It had to have been an ointment or elixir.

The silver drink slipped down her throat. It was cool, extinguishing the fire inside. She exhaled loudly, spitting on Lounn and down herself. "Gods," she guffawed. "I'm… I feel terrible." As the words left her lips, a tight sting began on her tongue and stomach. She loosely gripped her waist and closed her eyes. "I think I need to… go to bed…" she murmured.

Fireworks exploded in her insides; on the pedestal of her oesophagus they detonated. Her liver sizzled, unable to neutralise the elixir. The churning, gloopy acid of her stomach felt as if it had pooled into the space around her organs.

Ellie panted, exhaling and inhaling quickly. The potency of the drink reached her lungs; sparkling against the vessel channels and veins.

Lounn's words became muffled. She couldn't smell, hear, breathe or think. With a heave, she collapsed sideways and fell into a pit of darkness.

If felt as if someone was putting an immense weight on her eyeballs. Glitter shimmered through the black call of sleep. Figures danced out of the silver; prancing closer and closer until she could see beings and a strange world behind them. They were memories.

_They rippled through her mind like a painting beneath clear water. The first; she was on the top of a mountain, staring up at the brightest star above. Around her, stardust trickled down like rain drops. Frigga was holding her arm and smiling sadly. _

_"All of this light…" she murmured. _

_"Yes?" Ellie pushed, not wanting to look away. _

_"All of this light lives within you." _

_The next memory was on a golden balcony overlooking a garden – Frigga's private garden. Beneath them were Freyr's children. Laughter and high-pitched squealing echoed in Ellie's ears. She leaned over and stared at the shining butterflies which played with the children. Suddenly, one of them slipped over and the light in his eyes went out for a moment. _

_"What's wrong with him?" Ellie asked, turning to look up at the Queen._

_"They grow weary and ill. The longer the stone calls for its master, the weaker they become."_

Bursting, Ellie shot up and out of her vision. She gasped and began to heave. It was too much; so many voices cried out in her head, she could scarcely control herself from screaming. With a pained groan, she clutched her wrist to her chest and slumped against the wall.

"Sire!" someone called. It must've been Lounn, only he could sound so dramatic.

"I'm…" she tried to calm him. "I'm okay… I…"

_"She is your Mother," Frigga said, brushing her fingers over the tapestry. It was dusty and oddly bent from decades of storage. When Ellie touched it, she found it was shockingly cold and empty. She peered at Niamh Chin __Óir. _

_The princess stood beside the Lord Freyr on a battlefield, holding the head of a Dökkálfar. "There was a fierce battle on Alfheim. She saved her people from extinction and restored the Alkar Tree to its rightful place." Covered in blood, the Elf was an angel amongst the bloodshed. _

_"Her hair. Her face…" Ellie whispered. "She…" _

_"Looks like you," Frigga began rolling the tapestry back up. "Freyr knew from the moment he saw you; you were his blood." _

_"He told me I was human."_

_Frigga swept the tapestry into oblivion. It disappeared with a gush of wind. Ellie stared at the empty table. "Ellie, you must understand that no one can know about this. Not even yourself. Not yet. They will have at you for being what you are." _

The world was a murky swamp of words, voices and smells. Someone was touching her; holding her face with such caress it pulled her from her mind. "Help me," she said, her voice distant, as if being pulled out of a nightmare. Loki swallowed as crouched against her quivering form. Anguish radiated from Ellie and it made Loki's skin shiver. Her voice came again. "Help me," she said louder. "Help me. Help me."

Loki stared at her, unable to control the surges of loss Ellie exhumed. Her eyes fluttered open; they were shining with gold light; she was foreign to him in every sense. Loki's fingers slipped from her face; he was trapped in her stare. "Ellie," Loki warned.

She shot a handout, grabbing his collar. Absorbing him fully into the petrifying need to understand. Without missing a heartbeat, she begged: "who am I?"

Loki thought she sounded like a child. It was similar to the voice she used on the bridge; on the first night of their meeting. Only this time, he was consumed by her sorrow and wanted to protect her from its relentless mercy. "I can't…" he began.

"You can." Ellie grabbed his tunic, curling her fingers into the rich leather. "You can," she repeated, her voice wavering. "who am I?"

_"Adams. My name is Ellie Adams." _

_The Völva popped out of the darkness, grabbing her by the throat. His black saliva dripped down his chin and onto her lap. "You've taken a bite," he drooled. "Tell me what you found out." _

The floor disintegrated beneath them. Grappling for a ledge, Ellie screeched and tumbled into the darkness. She was falling. The air rushed up around her, pushing her hair around her neck until it tangled and squeezed. Clutching the skin, she scratched and choked.

_"Go on, little bird," Frigga said, urging Ellie out of a secret passage. "Back to training."_

_"Won't they see me walking back in?" _

_Frigga held the door for several moments, her voice dropping to a whisper. "This passage leads to the rooftops. You'll be able to slip into the courtyard unseen." With a quick nod, Ellie turned and scurried down the uneven path. It was grassy and unkept, a dumping ground of rotten vegetables and farm food. _

_She skidded down to the lower town, listening to the chirping birds as dawn threatened to break. As she reached the training quarters, she found herself on a strip of land above. With a huff, she dropped onto a tiled roof and scampered towards the courtyard. Her feet slipped on his damp surface until she came to a pleasant halt. _

_Exhausted, she collapsed and stared up at the sky. Her eyes slipped shut for a few precious minutes. _

"Get it off," a voice begged. Ellie realised it was hers. She scratched at the arm ring, crying out as the silver melted into her skin. "It burns."

The fire consumed her, spreading up her arm and into her chest. She couldn't bear to open her eyes in fear she'd see her own flesh bubbling like a cooking stew. It was painful, holding onto the conscious world as another memory slipped into her mind.

_"There is a tale, one you may know, but it is infamous to us." Frigga was soothing Ellie, having discovered her crying on the Alfheim pillar. She was consumed by fear; to fail, to succeed, to disobey. The Queen Mother stroked Ellie's hair, humming gently and compelling the fright from her soul. _

_"What's the story?" she sniffled. _

_"Once there was a princess trapped in a tower. A prince appeared, fighting valiantly. He slayed the dragon, cutting open its throat and leaving its blood to drip down his sword. The princess wept all night long into her pillow. She loved that beast." _

_"How? It was the monster." _

_Pushing her hand through Ellie's curls, she smiled. "Monstrous things aren't always monstrous. Sometimes they're beautiful." _

_"Why did you tell me that story?" _

_"You believe you are becoming a monster. So, you stop yourself from truly fighting and training. Tomorrow, you will defeat your peers without fear of banishment from God." _

Ellie could only conclude that she had drunk acid, not a medicinal liquid as it coursed through her veins and swam around her heart. She couldn't breathe anymore; her throat was swollen and pulsing; throbbing flashes of agony down her body. She inhaled and the noise which came from her throat was a gargle. Then the noise stopped.

The commotion in her ears was a muffled chaos. Only her heartbeat thundered on her eardrum. It was a ticking timebomb and she knew it was coming to its end. In the heat of that hell, she thought of what Hell was. Would she be dragged through its gate by a chain, pulled over the brimstone floor and shoved into a cooking pot with other sinners? It was inevitable; she had committed heinous acts without consulting God for forgiveness.

Perhaps the drink had been holy water. God was finally taking her back.

The hazy purgatory she was suspended in warped and contorted. She felt warmth; genuine kindness, not burning. It consumed her agony, wrapping her up and kissing every pained part. With a spluttered choke, she descended, or rather, ascended.

* * *

Aesir guests squabbled with the guards, craning their necks for a peek into the sanctuary. The Allfather cast his cape, banishing them from view. He stormed towards the healers who were in a deep conversation with his wife.

On the suspended chamber, Ellie lay still and unconscious. The red haze around her shimmered. In pursuit of him was his raven-haired son.

"I am the son of the King!" he shouted. "I demand you let me through."

"No one is permitted to enter," a guard said.

"I am your God…!"

"Allow him through," the Allfather called. The two guards turned, their faces stony and unemotional as Loki's thunderous footsteps announced his entrance. Medicinal smells burned his nose as he approached. It was sweet and sour, tainting his ability to rationalise the situation.

"Why are you…?" he began.

_"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth," his Mother sang: _

_"Mise ri d'thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan  
Ar righinn oig, fas as faic  
Do thir, dileas fhein  
A ghrian a's a ghealaich, stuir sinn  
Gu uair ar cliu 's ar gloire  
Naoidhean bhig, ar righinn og  
Mhaighdean uasal bh-han." _

Breathing heavily, Loki stared at her. He recognised the lullaby from his childhood; it was one of love and protection. It shouldn't have been used on a Midgardian, on a being with no connection to the Yggdrasil's royalty. But he knew better than to believe such a thing now. He clenched his fist. "What happened to her?" he asked, his eyes dark. "Aelfred gave her a goblet of silver. _Silver_ ale!"

Odin turned and walked away from the bed. He brushed past Loki in silence, deciding to head towards Lord Freyr's quarters instead of face his son.

"My love," Frigga called gently. He ignored her, continuing out of the room. The guards stood straight, their faces passive. Loki looked between his mother and the open door. "What do you both know?" Frigga couldn't meet his questioning stare. "Tell me, Mother."

"Ask your father, Loki. I beg of you." She leaned over the bedside, her hand reaching to hold Ellie's. Loki hissed and stormed out after the King.

Odin was halfway down the corridor, his pace fast and unnerving. Loki transported forwards, a step behind him. "Father," he said loudly. The King walked faster. "Father!" he snapped and finally the King whipped around to face his son.

"What is it, boy?"

"Tell about Eurelia. I know she's not human. Thor may be two inches thicker than a plank of wood, but I'm not." So, tell me what she is," he raised his voice, feeling annoyance, fear and need fill him. "Tell me why you have deceived me the entire time."

* * *

References:

Frigga's Song / A Mhaighdean Bhan Uasal - from the movie 'Brave'. I felt the song mirrored Frigga and Ellie's relationship as well as the change Ellie is going through.

* * *

SenSen-Chan - You are an amazing reviewer and reader! You're so dedicated, I love it! Thank you so much for reading xx

* * *

Please comment and review! It makes me improve my writing and your reading experiences! x


	32. Preparations

**Worship of the Gods**

_And the centurion who stood by said:_

_Truly this was a son of God._

_Not long ago but everywhere I go_

_There is a hill and a black windy sky._

_Portent of hill, sky, day's eclipse I know;_

_Hill, sky, the shuddering darkness, these am I._

_The dying at His right hand, at His left,_

_I am - the thief redeemed and the lost thief;_

_I am the careless folk; I those bereft,_

_The Well-Belov'd, the women bowed in grief._

_The gathering Presence that in terror cried,_

_In earth's shock in the Temple's veil rent through,_

_I; and a watcher, ignorant, curious-eyed,_

_I the centurion who heard and knew_

Adelaide Crapsey, Verse by Adelaide Crapsey

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Preparations**

Ellie swam to the surface of consciousness, rising out and falling back in over a period of days. The time felt like seconds as sparks of conversation wriggled their way into her dreams.

_"You poisoned her, then," Loki seethed. "You knew this would happen." _

_"This would not have happened when she first arrived," Odin said, his voice calmer. "We know her transformation is nearly complete." _

_"Transformation?" he spat. "Who is we? Who are you conspiring with? Treating her like an experiment?" _

It was painful listening to two Gods bickering. Both were fighting for dominance over the conversation. However, the Allfather always won against his son.

_"Don't feign innocence with me, boy," he thundered. "She has been a toy to you. You tricked her into eating from the Iduna Sanctuary. She would have been tested from the trial alone." _

When she heard Odin raising his voice, she fought to wake. She had to see if Loki was affected by his father's words.

_"I was teaching her," he responded, his voice visibly affected by Odin's misunderstanding. _

_"You were fooling her. By what right have to do infer with the Ljósálfar's troubles?" _

_"I was born a God," he hissed. "It is what I am owed."_

_"Don't you sound just like her. Or is it that she sounds just like you." _

_"Is that so terrible, Father?" There was torturous anger in Loki's voice. "Would you have preferred Thor, Father? Would you? Don't walk away from me! Father!" _

There was a clatter of noise, frightening Ellie enough to slip back under and disappear into the world of dreams.

_Time was a vapid, stateless entity when you were asleep. Ellie swam between memories and fictional universes. She could be stood in her chambers with Frigga combing her hair and then a draugr would burst through the door, biting her neck and throwing her into a new vision. _

_By far her favorite dream was the one where she sat on the windowsill of her Covent Garden apartment, overlooking the cobblestone road below. She was dangling her bare feet and it was snowing. Flakes fluttered into her bare legs. It sent tingles up her arms as she looked up at the porcelain sky and felt at peace with Midgardian life. _

_When she bowed her head, London was gone. The landscape was a tundra of ice. Across a clearing sat the Alfheim tree and in its soul was the Alkar stone. It glowed gold. _

_Ellie raised a hand, reaching for it. _

_The dream world faded away like a crackling television screen. _

She opened her eyes with great difficulty, shuddering as the light of two suns welcomed her. Watering and stinging, she closed them again and exhaled a sigh. Yellow crept into the skin beneath her eyelids. For a moment, she imagined she was in the afterlife. Heaven was soft and gentle, like falling into a featherbed. Valhalla would be passionate and exciting; she could run through forests and over mountains forever.

"My lady?" Cecelia's soft voice accented with the northern flick of Asgard called to her. Ellie opened her eyes again. "I thought I heard you stirring."

"What happened?" she croaked, rolling her head away from the sunlight. "My throat feels awful. My stomach…" pulling her knees up and groaning, "oh, God."

Cecelia closed the curtains with a sharp swish and hurried to her bedside. There was a cabinet of potions which rattled as she opened the door and uncorked a yellow bottle. With a calm hand, she lifted Ellie into a sitting position and urged her to drink it.

The events of the torque celebration and arena presentation washed over her. "I don't want to drink it," she panicked.

"It will ease your sickness."

Hesitantly, Ellie took a sip. It was as sweet as honey and extinguished the stinging sensations in her innards. She hungrily gulped the remainder and sighed, falling back into the pillows. "Aelfred…" she started, "he gave me something to drink. It was poison."

"It wasn't, my lady," Cecelia said.

"It had to be. My insides have been stripped raw."

"The drink was a silver concoction, not poison."

"Silver? And the bangle…" Ellie lifted her wrist to find it bandaged. The door to her chambers swung open. She snapped her gaze to Frigga.

"Good morning, Eurelia," she said, dismissing Cecelia.

"I was poisoned," Ellie repeated. "Aelfred poisoned me."

To her surprise, the Queen nodded and smiled. She pushed a graceful hand through Ellie's tangled, unwashed hair and let it rest on her shoulder. "You were poisoned. Not purposely, albeit Aelfred's intentions were unknown to Lord Freyr and us but justified."

"Justified? The silver made me sick. I couldn't breathe."

"Secrets make you sick," she pointed.

Remembering the torturous dreams which had plagued her mind for days, Ellie moved out of Frigga's reach. Her eyes began to water as her voice dropped to a crackled whisper, "my mother. You took my memories. You knew all along."

"I did." She leaned forward as if revealing a joyous secret. "I knew the moment you saved me."

It felt closer to betrayal than giddy gossip. "How?"

Sensing her unease, Frigga inched her fingers to Ellie's bare collarbone. Ellie clenched her teeth, attempting to repel her magic from morphing her emotions. The Queen's magic warmed her and filled her with mindfulness. "I was raised by witches," she said Ellie exhaled and unclenched her fist. "My blood is streaming with magic. I sensed a connection; a power."

"You shouldn't use magic on me anymore," Ellie said, a hint of sadness leaking through the magic. "You should've told me from the start. _Why_ didn't you tell me?"

Frigga took her hand away. "If I were to tell you that you were the daughter of one of the most beautiful and angelic creatures in this universe, it would've tainted you."

"What? You wanted me to be humble? That's it?" The Queen's silence told her everything. "I've felt so alone… all my life."

"There was no way of approaching your heritage with you without emotional turmoil."

"Emotional turmoil?" Ellie offensively repeated, wishing she had stayed asleep. "My mother is dead. My father is… who? No one. A human. _Dead_."

"And _you_ are alive. You are the child that time lost and you found your way back," Frigga took hold of Ellie's cheek. Magic warmed her face, filling her with devotion and forgiveness. The Queen's power was centuries old and Ellie's could feel it.

With a shaky breath, Ellie nodded. "What happens now?"

"The real war has begun. It's time to join it."

"And where do I start with that?"

"Speaking with your grandfather will be a good place."

How could he be? Where did she begin with accumulating family members? She felt like a raven collecting shiny objects from near and far. They'd all sit in her little nest like trophies, giving her a sense of purpose. "How long has he known?" she wondered how many times she had stood within reach; looking like his daughter.

"It took some time for him to come to terms with it all. Even now, it will be difficult. There is so little time to make amends now."

"How do I speak to him?" Relaxation swept over Ellie. It seemed Frigga did not need to physically touch Ellie to do what she wanted. Ellie looked away. "What do I say?"

"We can start by greeting one another as family," a deep voice echoed. Ellie snapped her head back to the Queen only to find her watching Lord Freyr. She swore there were tears in her eyes as she watched Freyr walk towards Ellie.

She sat up straighter, her heart thundering despite the Queen's magic.

Lord Freyr's rosy cheeks were still plump on his face, but the shadows beneath his eyes were haunting. He was exhausted and joyous features could only hide so much. Ellie had gotten so used to the expression; it was chilling to be deprived of it.

"My Lord," she said, her voice lost in the large room. "I'm… sorry."

To her confusion, Frigga and Freyr started laughing. He held his chest, walking towards her with a hearty expression. "My girl, half of my blood you are but your words are so human," he boomed. Ellie sat up straighter in bed.

Freyr held something in his hand. It was a torque. Taking her unbandaged wrist, he pushed the bracelet over her skin. "It is pure gold." Ellie could feel the weight of it. She swallowed, running a finger over the runes. It said her mother's maiden name: chinn òir.

"What happened to her?" she dreaded the answer.

"She was murdered in Hel, retrieving the stolen Alkar." Memories flashed in his shimmering eyes; he was living in the past. "She was foolish." Ellie blinked. "Foolishly reckless, passionate and strong."

"I remember her." Briefly glancing at Frigga, Ellie recalled her foggy thoughts. "She was beautiful. She liked to sing. Even though she wasn't…"

"Very good at it," Freyr laughed, finishing the sentence. Their laughter fell into mournful silence. "She loved you. We all did. You were so young when we lost you."

"I don't remember that part. It's too painful to retrieve."

"You followed your mother. Through the portal," he said. "She didn't know you were awake. You liked to hide the woods; you see. Off you went… after her and into Hel."

The mind was a powerful entity. It locked thoughts and words in a cage for the safety of its sanity. Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek, imagining a devilish world. For a youngling, it would've been monstrous.

"I will show you," he said, drawing her attention back. His grip on her cheek softened. Ellie found herself leaning into his hand, her eyes watering. "One day soon. For now, you must rest. There will be a council soon in preparation for the war to come. I will visit later. Perhaps with the little ones. It would be good for them to get to know their cousin."

* * *

**Several Days Later**

"You will be addressed," Freyr said, pressing a hand to her cheek for a moment. "Your rightful name has been given to you and you will be treated as such."

Ellie nodded hesitantly. Her palms were sweating so she dared not offer a hand back to him. Their relationship was still unnatural to her. Everything was different; the training, magic and prayers. She hadn't seen Lounn in over two weeks or been allowed two minutes alone. With healers flittering around and Cecelia assigned back to her, a moments peace was all she craved.

Her breath was suspended at the top of her throat. She lived in a constant state of unease. For what? She could not answer. It was a companion; anxiety.

"Eurelia," Freyr said. Ellie snapped her gaze up to his. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she said. "I'm fine."

"If this is too much, then the council will understand."

"They won't." Rumour had it a few of them were vicious. They were so obsessed with the protection of the realm, they disregarded any being they deemed inferior. "They'll think I'm weak. I'm not weak. I'm your…"

"Granddaughter," he said.

"And I'm not weak. I'm ready for war."

The words felt alien on her tongue. She knew she had been indoctrinated into bloodshed. It could have been comparable to joining a cult, she supposed. Although, cults relied on lies and fear. The war was very much real, and she was on the frontline.

Freyr pulled his cape further over his shoulders, smiling proudly. He squeezed her shoulder once more and swished out of the archway.

Ellie exhaled, letting her head fall back against the stone wall. How could it would've felt to slide down it and fall asleep in the glorious silence. Her head began to ache.

"Greetings, sweet princess!" Thor said, appearing around a corner with his brother.

Ellie groaned quietly and straightened, brushing her dress down and painting a smile on her face. The princes were in black and purple, assumedly to match the Allfather. Her own gown was lilac.

"Please," she said softly. They stopped before her with knowing smirks on their faces. "Don't call me that."

Thor raised an eyebrow. "Why ever not? You're a legend. A myth."

"A ghost," Loki said. Ellie looked at him quickly.

"And you?" she asked, unable to shake the itch of betrayal. "How long did you know?"

"Not as long as I wish to share."

"As long as the rest of them?"

Loki studied her silently. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. They flickered to her braids, the torque and to her throat. Could he hear her racing heartbeat? Sense the sweat on her palms? The nagging pain in her head?

Ellie clenched her teeth.

"Quite a scare you gave us," Thor continued, idly poking his head around the corner and into the chamber. "Crying and screaming like that. Thought my ears were bleeding."

"Believe me, so did I," she said, continuing to hold Loki's gaze. She wanted to rip his eyes out and see into his head. Perhaps his thoughts weren't neurons bouncing around a brain, but an ancient, infinite book. His articulate nature wouldn't have made it a surprise.

But she had seen him bleed, which meant he wasn't an inanimate object. He was… a God.

"Presenting His Royal Highness, Prince Thor Odinson of Asgard," a man beckoned the lither God.

"Suppose you feel better now you know you're not a nobody." Meant to be light and off-hand, Thor gave her a cheeky smile and continued out of sight. Ellie nodded after him, her gaze falling to the floor in self-loathing.

"Would you have mourned me?" she asked in their silence. "You tricked me into eating Iduna's fruit. Would you have mourned if it had poisoned me?"

"No."

Tilting her head up, she looked down at Loki. "No?" she asked again. How many days, months even, had they spent together? He saw her soul; her anguish, loneliness and hatred. The prince was her saviour and a part of him had to know that she would give her life to save his. Only one God could be relied upon it seemed and not once had he shown his face.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Eurelia Niamh-Chinn Òir of Alfheim," the addressor's voice sung. "Accompanied by his Royal Highness, Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard. The words sparkled through the archway, reaching Ellie's ears like glass daggers. She had heard the presentation many times when she was a youngling, but that was years ago, and she scarcely believed the memories were hers yet.

The raven-haired prince reached for her arm, but she held it back childishly. "Don't touch me ever again," she hissed.

He held his hand open as if approaching an angry dog. "I apologise," he pressed. "I apologise for eternity. But you have to understand that if you died, you wouldn't have been you."

"Just human," she spat. "I still am."

"Yes, not completely but if you were you would have died when we first met." He eyed her carefully, moving gently before her. "You wouldn't have survived your injuries. You know this."

"I _might _ have." She knew the truth that she would have died in Frigga's arms. Or they would have both passed away together. Loki would take his Mother's body and discard hers; a stranger with a different heaven. "You should've mourned the human who tried to save your Mother, then," Ellie growled and pushed Loki's hand down. She shoved her arm through his and pulled him through the archway.

The chamber's skylight bathed it in a yellow glow. A dozen councilmembers sat around an oval table. Odin and Frigga stood at the far end watching them enter. Elders she'd never seen before were stood either side of Aelfred and Freyr was grinning proudly.

Ellie's jaw twanged. She figured it was her clenched teeth.

"Perhaps I would have returned for her body," Loki said. "Set her on fire and returned her to Valhalla." It was loud in her ear. She looked at him sharply, only to find he had barely whispered the words. With her rediscovered heritage, she figured her senses would become as sharp as a Ljósálfar's.

She didn't forgive Loki for his betrayal. After many nights in her chambers, mulling over the process she had taken to become what she was, she decided she wanted to be his equal. Not because she was Ljósálfar or human, but because she was a living being.

Unhooking her arm, she bowed to the addresser who pulled a seat out for her. Ellie took her place beside Lord Freyr and smiled at him apprehensively. He winked. She turned to the table and was surprised that all of their eyes were on her. It shouldn't have been one, they had been called to witness the final plans for Alfheim.

On the table was a map of the kingdom. Wooden figurines were posed in certain areas; overthrown castles, valleys and the Alkar Tree. In the middle of the map was a replica of the stone. Where was the real one being kept?

Odin stood, sweeping his golden cape back. An apprehensive silence filled the room. "Members of the council; Gods, Lords, Captains and Queens… you have been gathered for the call of war. This will be the final war for Ljósálfheimr – Alfheim. Lord Freyr will present our plan of entrance into the realm."

Freyr rose. "The realm is home to an abundance of beings. They belong to no creature or God and must be respected when we enter. The Dwarven sanctuary on the Alkarion Mountains will not disturb us; they took to hiding over five hundred years ago and will not risk their folk for any battle." He pointed towards a jagged landscape covered in snow. It was miles from the Alkar Tree, but Ellie still felt a twinge of annoyance that not everyone would be willing to restore the realm.

"As for the Bifrost – it can only be opened in one place," Freyr continued. "The Lumeer Forest. This is the home of the Fae and the sacred woodland has never been used as a bridge to warfare. We have acquired the homage of their Queen, Aesla Featherwine." He raised a hand, presenting two beautiful beings who were sat opposite Ellie.

"I am Aeltri, daughter of Kharis," the first spoke, her voice like crystal in the room. The second bowed, his luminous green eyes meeting each person in the room.

"Hrinmeer," he said. "Son of Maglor Tasartir. We are from the Queensguard and will escort you to our majesty. Your offering will be judged and received." Ellie suddenly felt unworthy of their presence. She tried to hide, dropping her face downwards and allowing strands of hair to lop over her cheeks and forehead.

"Offering?" a guttural voice said. "What kind of offering?"

"Lord Vali…" Aelfred attempted to settle him.

"No," he said, rising to his feet with a loud clatter. Half a dozen swords hung on his waist. His hair was tied in a dreadlock bun atop his head. If not for his cruel voice, he would have been terrifyingly beautiful. "If you are giving the fae a gift, then I demand one. You are using my valleys and rivers as transport for your armies. How much land will be destroyed by your men?"

Odin stared at him. "Forgive me, I assumed you were aiding the daughter of Óir out of the goodness of your heart."

"You mock me, Allfather," he said.

"On the contrary, Lord Vali. I provided my strongest men in your safe journey despite the imminent threat of thievery and attack."

"You demand me trust a strange girl and give up my lands so you can attack the heart of Alfheim."

Freyr clenched his fist. "Which has been infested by wargs and dark magic, Vali."

"By what proof? My people have not seen nor heard from the wargs in years. They leave us in peace and do not destroy my lands like you plan on doing."

"Grass will regrow," Odin said.

"Organs do not," Freyr added. "The heart of our realm is diseased. Can't you sense it? It weakens your people and will feed on you until there is nothing left but blood and bone."

"And the girl?" Vali spat, jabbing a finger at Ellie. She inhaled sharply, unable to control the anger filling her from Freyr. The room was bubbling with annoyance and she couldn't stop them leaking through her soul. A wave of magic swam in her chest.

"Do not speak over me, Lord Vali," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

"How dare you address me in such a way. The audacity of you… a mere girl. How long have they trained you for? Indoctrinated you in wanting more than you deserve? What was it, Allfather?"

Odin unblinkingly watched Vali, his stoic face passive. "Three years she has been with us." Ellie snapped her gaze to him. Had it been that long? How had time gone so fast? She was twenty-seven and hadn't celebrated a birthday since leaving Midgard. The mundanity of human life felt so distant, but not so far. She blinked hot tears away and turned back to Vali.

"I have trained for this," she said carefully. "I will return the stone and restore peace to Alfheim whether you wish it or not."

"Trained? No doubt spoiled in the Allfather's kingdom and courted by servants all day long!" Vali levelled her up, his height towering over her as if that settled their argument. "Especially as you are nothing more than a human — you have no right surrounded by these kin."

Glowering at his stupidity; his blindness for the world outside of his fur coats and indulgent Alfheim livestyle, Ellie did not back down. "I am Eurelia, Daughter of Niamh Chinn Óir and a guardian of Asgard." She felt the eyes of the council on her, marvelling the way she possessed every word. "I would think twice before using human as an insult when there are humans far greater and steadier with a blade than the slithering tongue you slide down the councils' ear."

The Elven princess' sharp tongue surprised those sat around her, Thor and Loki stilled in their chairs; enthralled by her courage. Silence descended upon the room. Vali breathed heavily and took a moment before collapsing in his chair. He glowered at her and then at Odin. "My offering, Allfather. Or I will remove my army from the battle."

The council turned to look at the Allfather. He had a finger pressed to his lips and was mulling over Lord Vali's words. Ellie had spoken to him in the same way once but received a good telling off. She had to assume Odin had plans for the man.

"We will discuss this in private, Lord Vali," he said. "Out of respect for the battle plans we must agree upon now."

"Delightful," Vali said, a sly grin emerging on his face. "If it's good, I might just invite you all to my daughter's wedding. It's tradition for my people to wed during times of turmoil."

Frigga gave him a tight smile. "That's very _gracious_ of you, Lord Vali. We look forward to it."

For the entirety of the meeting, Ellie supressed the grin which threatened to eat her face. She knew the Queen was poking fun at Vali. Thankfully, the lord was foolish enough to take it as praise. He sat smirking at the Allfather and twiddling a dagger in his hands.

Freyr told them that Asgardian soldiers will travel with the Ljósálfar in several days. Ellie would travel with the Warriors Three and the princes to meet Queen Aesla Featherwine and present their offering before the soldiers came through the Bifrost. They would continue their journey through the forests until they reached Lord Vali's communal kingdom. If he received a good enough reward, he would allow the warriors through and into No-Mans Land.

There were several abandoned fortresses which the armies would use as lily-pads; hopping up to the inner realm and facing the final battle against the wargs. The Asgardian fighters were known as Einherjar and one of their captains sat listening intently, pointing at advantage points their armies could use. It was becoming very real; the threat of starvation, poverty and war-wounds filled Ellie with dread.

Ellie sat digesting the plans as the councilmen agreed heartily with one another. After her outburst, none of them gave her the side-eye or treated her with disdain.

"Let us commemorate this gathering," Odin said, rising from his seat. There was a bounty of shuffles and chairs scraping. With a wave of Frigga's hand, the table disappeared and they guests were left within meters of one another without furniture to hold them apart.

Ellie's eyes darted to Aelfred's, Hrimeers and Aetri's and then Freyr's. They were quick to meet her gaze. The strange fae watched her silently, almost curiously. She sensed their intrigue and approached them immediately.

"Pleasure to be acquainted with you, sweetling," Aetri greeted, his voice like a purr. She took his hand, indulging in the smoothness of his skin. Midgardian folktales told of faeries being erotically charming and sweeping humans away for eternity. Hrimeer pressed a kiss to her cheeks. Ellie didn't think an eternal romance was such a bad idea.

"The rumours were unsettling," he said. "Like our Dwarfish bretherin, we have lived underground for over three hundred years waiting for the Alkar to return. False stories were always buzzing in our cities."

"You learned to be wary," she nodded. "I understand how terrible this has been for you. But I have made it my life to help return Alfheim to its rightful state."

Hrimeer shared a long look with Aetri. Ellie sensed their dwindling romance was coming to bloom soon. They both turned back to her and bowed. Frigga appeared at her side with an ironclad warrior. He was ginormous, with tattoos running over his head and runes hanging off his beard.

"Captain," Frigga pressed graciously. "Princess Eurelia Niamh Chinn Óir."

"Ellie," she said, her cheeks turning pink.

"Skurge, my lady," he said, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it. "Captain of the Einherjar; protector of Asgard."

He took her hand with suprising elegance. His beard tickled the skin of her hand as he pressed a kiss to it. "It's nice to meet you," she said, slightly flattered.

"My word, you really are Midgardian bred." It was neither a compliment nor insult, but the warrior took note of Ellie's confusion. "What I mean by that is your mannerisms are… otherworldly."

"I'm sorry." Ellie scratched her head. "Some things are hard to shake off."

"No apology is necessary. I've always wanted to visit Midgard myself. You could escort me 'round the sights."

Her cheeks turned pink. "I do hope to go back one day," she said. "It might've changed since I left. Time seems to go fast here; I imagine it has back… home."

"It would be an adventure for us both."

"I look forward to it," she mirrored his light voice and mannerisms in hope of gaining another friend. She missed Lounn and Gustav; even Malai and Naeva. Were they in the taverns? Or clearing out their training barracks and moving into the professional quarters?

Skurge continued indulging her with tales of battle. He had recently been promoted and was splurging coin on ale, lovers and food. His colourful language was hard to ignore, but Ellie found herself listening to a conversation behind her.

"You make me feel inferior when you speak to me like that," Thor said, his voice hushed and hidden from the brash chatter of the other gods. Ellie raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly.

"Inferiority comes from a place of poor self-esteem," Loki replied. "Are you a bit self-conscious, Thor? Bit shy?"

"Don't insult me."

"You make it so easy."

"I don't make it easy. A peasant wouldn't talk to me like this."

"Of course not. Why would they be cruel to their own people?"

There was a scoff. Assumedly from Thor. "I'll strangle you," he said. "Or I'll just snap that little head right off your tiny body."

"I am two inches shorter."

"And one hundred pounds lighter."

The scuffle of shoes and a grunt followed. "Ten times more powerful than you."

"I'll let you know the next time I need an enemy levitated."

"I'll levitate your brain out of that thick skull of yours," Loki said, his voice slightly shaky as he avoided his brother's grasps. "Oh, I forgot, you don't have one." With a cry, Thor grabbed his neck and began pulling him to the ground.

Ellie turned and shot them glare. Skurge was too busy demonstrating an upper-cut to notice. It was unfair the princes were allowed to foolishly and frivolously argue, and she had to withhold a state of elegance. "Do you both mind?" she hissed. "The fate of the Elves-_my people _-is at stake." Loki used his magic to compel Thor to the ground. His brother crumpled in a heap, gasping for breath. When the blond went for him again, Ellie stomped forward and grabbed his clenched fist. "Are you five? Stop fucking around."

Loki got to his feet, brushing his tunic down and grinning proudly. Ellie released Thor and glowered. "Wipe that off your face," she hissed to Loki. "You're just as immature."

"Is that you speak to a prince?"

"According to my grandfather, I'm the same status so shut up."

Smiling slightly, the prince took a step toward her. "Is that how you speak to a God?" he said lowly.

Ellie grinned in return. "I don't pray to you," she said chirpily.

"Didn't you admit to doing so?"

The smile nearly slipped from her face. "Not outwardly. When we danced… could you read my thoughts?"

"Wouldn't you like me to tell you?" he said as Thor clambered to his feet. "Little Midgardian." His brother dove, holding Loki's waist and throwing him overhead. He screamed, tumbling into the corridor and out of sight.

Skurge laughed loudly. "Men after my own heart," he said. "I trained with the princes many eons ago. It seems they haven't lost their spite for one another."

"You two!" Frigga appeared, flushed and brandishing her cape. "You're over a thousand years old. The pair of you! Get _back_ in here. Thor-_stop_. Don't give me that stupid grin-get that _off_ your face."

A sharp pain shot through Ellie's head. She grimaced and touched her temple.

"My lady?" Skurge asked, pressing towards her.

She stood up and smiled forcefully. "Perfect," she said and turned to the room. "Excuse me, guests of the council, I must attend another matter," she announced, bring their chatter to a close. "It has been a honour conversing with you all and I am proud to stand beside you on the Eve of War." Out of everyone, Aelfred and Lord Vali watched her in apprehensive judgement. Ellie held their gazes until she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the room.

Halfway down the corridor and collapsed against the wall. Exhaustion had been a friend for many weeks. It was so difficult to keep it hidden away.

At the end of the corridor, Cecelia appeared and hurried towards her. "Allow me to help you back to your chambers, my lady," she said. With a grunt, Ellie got to her feet and took Cecelia's hand.

"How did you know I'd be here?" She looked down at herself.

"The Queen," she said.

Ellie glanced down at the corridor and sure enough, Frigga stood beside her two sons. They watched her cautiously. Ellie was overcome with fatigue. She nodded haphazardly and continued out of their sight.

With a warm bath running, her curtains billowing in night air and the caw of a raven nearby, Ellie felt sadness creeping over her. She hung over the sink, watching the water swill round and round; disappearing down the pipes.

Snapping her gaze up to the mirror, she peered closer at her features. Her skin was as textured as a humans' with a premature wrinkle by her mouth where she smiled too wide. The eyes, as mundane as they were in colour, where not from her mother but a father she still didn't know. It was the ears which frightened her the most. They poked out of the side of her head, exposed by the hair wrought up in a bun. And they were pointed.

With a shaky hand, she touched the tip and gasped. It was startlingly sensitive, as soft as baby skin and smooth without flaws. A small cartilage hoop hung in the alienated new world of her ear. It looked bizarre.

Ellie met her own eyes in the mirror. She ran a finger down the side of her face and dropped her head to her chest, feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness.

Ellie sobbed. Her cries wracked her body, heaving her chest painfully until she collapsed on the floor. With red cheeks, spit and tears coating her face and neck, she could only cry louder. _Where did she belong? Who was she? Why was she? _

There was not an answer.

* * *

**Comments:**

Be safe everyone x


	33. The Fae's Kingdom

Worship of the Gods

_"Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all.  
Their feathers are too bright,  
their songs too sweet and wild.  
So you let them go,  
or when you open the cage to feed them  
they somehow fly out past you.  
And the part of you that knows  
it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices,  
but still the place where you live  
is that much drabber and emptier for their departure."_

Stephen King

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Fae's Kingdom

Ellie squealed as caught sight of Lounn. Their chests painfully collided but their hearts were beating too loudly for either of them to care. They held one another fiercely. He smelt of steel and mud. Ellie's hair filled his nose with lilac.

"I missed you," she said, her voice muffled by his cloak. "It's been so long."

"Weeks," he said, his voice light with laughter. "I thought I'd only see you from the battlefield."

"Me too. What are you doing down here?" They pulled away, holding either other at a distance. Ellie's cape was heavy and dark over her shoulders and head. She held his arm tightly, examining his face. There was a pink wound along his cheek. "What happened?"

"I'm on the first-line," he said. "The training was intense. A lot of us were practising berserking and it got a bit out of hand."

"Berserking? But…" Ellie's words fell apart. She couldn't scold him for practising it, but there was the inability to stop which worried her. Berserking was a Norse practise where the warriors would take psychedelics and lose control on the battlefield. They would scream; beating, biting and fighting anything that crossed their path.

With a proud grin, Lounn said: "it's necessary for war and kind of fun."

"Right. Of course. The front-line, though, is so dangerous. Is anyone with you? How are the others?"

"They are faring well. Gustav is somewhere around her, probably having a drink before tomorrow morning. Malai is in the second wave and the rest are in the third or joining the Ljósálfar's forces."

"I miss you all. It's been…"

Lounn reached beneath her hood and lifted her chin up. The fabric fell back, exposing her braids and ears. With a gasp, he let go and stared. The colour drained from his face. Ellie hastily pulled the cape over herself and took a step back. She said his name feebly and pleadingly. "I couldn't stop it."

"So, it's true," he swallowed. "Everything is true. You're one of them. What did they do to you?"

"Nothing. They grew. It was so painful. I couldn't do anything."

He approached her like a dog would to its master after being told off. Ellie clenched her teeth as he pushed her hood down again.

He went to touch the ear. "They hurt," she hissed and moved away. "They're sensitive."

"What has Odin said? Is it magic?"

"There was a meeting with Freyr and the healers a few nights ago. It's natural. Apparently Iduna's apple started a regeneration process. My body is returning to its rightful state after hibernating."

"Hibernating? You sound like a bear."

"Am I as terrifying as one now?" she pressed.

Lounn helped pull her hood over her head. He was smiling gently. "Definitely not. Not to me, anyway. Maybe to those bastard-wargs." She watched her friend's smile slip from his face as silence settled over them. Having spent a lot of her private time unable to bear the reality of her Elvish condition, she felt more alone than ever. However, with Lounn watching her like she was a true warrior, she felt proud and in her rightful place.

"You're going there first, aren't you?" he said after a short while. "With the princes."

Ellie wasn't supposed to disclose anything to outsiders. If there was such an issue with telling Lounn, then Odin would surely appear and struck her with lightning. She nodded. "Yes, we leave in a moment."

"Under the cover of night."

"Yes. And you will join us when the sun rises."

"I've found that we always find our way back to each other."

They laughed. "I wouldn't have it another way. I think you're my closest friend."

"Am I your only friend?"

"I think so," she straightened, preparing to leave him. "But I am also yours."

Lounn walked with her to the end of the road they had met on. They reached a rickety, wooden door which sat inconspicuously in a stone wall. Vines grew along the ridge and over the handle. Ellie touched it, her strength wavering.

She chewed the inside of her cheek and met Lounn's gaze. "Should I have addressed you as Princess?" he asked. "Or saviour?"

"Shut up."

He held a hand over hers and turned the handle. A gust of wind swept out of the passage. There was an overwhelming coolness to it as if no one had stepped foot inside for over a hundred years. They peered inside like two children stumbling upon a secret room.

"You first," he joked. Ellie shoved him with her shoulder and entered. When she turned, Lounn was already closing the door. His mischievous grin was sliding off his face; replaced by intense worry. With a clenched fist, Ellie turned on her heel and continued down the pathway.

Someone had been there recently. Torches lined the wall and the gravel was parted in areas footsteps had stomped. She followed the tracks and held her cloak around herself a little tighter. It took several minutes to reach the end. And there stood the princes, Hrimeer and Aetri. They were in a deep, intense conversation which was not disturbed when Ellie entered the space.

Behind them was a crack in the stone. It rose up over five meters and was glowing like petrol on a puddle.

"Lady Eurelia," Hrimeer turned, presenting her with a proud smirk. "May I have your name?"

Ellie cautiously approached. "My name?"

"Yes – may I have it to use and indulge?"

Aetri raised a hand, her amusement twinkling in her eyes. "Please, lover," she said to him, sliding closer to Ellie. "May _I_ have your name?"

"Enough," Prince Loki scolded. He shot a look between the fae. "Now isn't the time for tricks."

Thor laughed. "Jealous of the fae's abilities, brother?"

"Aware of spies." He shot a look over the stone walls and ceiling. Perhaps he meant his Father or Heimdall. When he looked at the crack in the wall, Ellie realised he meant other worlds. It was a portal; a physical crack between worlds.

"Where does it go?" she asked, walking past the fae and towards it. "Alfheim?"

"Yes," Loki said.

"There shouldn't be places like this in Asgard," Thor said, crossing his arms. "It is forbidden and a security risk."

Loki snapped his gaze towards him. "There is only this one."

"Really, brother?"

"A drunk stumbled across it some time ago."

Hrimeer and Aetri muttered between one another and appeared on either side of Ellie. "Shall we travel as one?"

"I can go alone." Ellie blinked quickly.

"We can distinguish your fear," Hrimeer purred, pressing a hand to her back.

Aetri ran a finger over her shoulder. "Us Fae can destroy fear completely. Chew it up like a honeburry leaf and turn it into syrup."

"The eyes of the Allfather are always watching," Loki said, his voice strict. "You may be out of the council chamber, but he is the protector of the entire universe. Even little creatures you Fae try to trick."

"Oh, she's hardly little," Hrimeer said, looking down at Ellie with a smile.

She caught onto their behaviour and stepped out of their grasps. "I should've known," she said. "You're trying to steal my voice and feelings."

"Not steal," Aetri smiled sweetly. "Never steal. Beings give us their voices and emotions for safe-keeping."

Hrimeer took her hand and pulled her towards the portal. "It's in our nature. Surely, you've discovered something about yours?"

Stepping towards them, she came to stand beside Thor. Her thoughts returned to the council meeting. "What do you want as a gift from us in return for your armies?" she asked, a frown settling on her face.

"That is yet to be decided, sweetling." They stepped back, disappearing through the portal in a swish of light. Their beauty was stained in Ellie's gaze. She wanted to follow them straight away and reached for the crack.

Loki grabbed her wrist. "Not yet," he warned. "Give them a moment."

"Don't want to knock them from the portal, do we?" Thor said. "Wouldn't be such a terrible idea. Hrimeer asked for a lock of my hair."

"You should've given it to him."

"You're envious they didn't ask you for anything."

"What's the point in tricking a trickster?"

The blonde-haired prince laughed loudly. "What's the point in tricking someone with nothing to give?" He attempted to shake Loki's hair like a dog, but the prince ducked and hissed at him.

With a glare, Loki took hold of Thor's cape and twisted it. He shoved him through the crack in the wall. Thor bellowed, falling back and disappearing in a burst of light.

"You shouldn't have done that," Ellie gasped, pulling her wrist out of Loki's grasp. "Now isn't the time for childish games even if he insulted you."

"Those fae insulted me."

"How?"

Loki turned back to the portal. It was mesmerising, watching his skin glisten with blue, red and white. The light refracted off the walls and, in their eyes, making it difficult to stare for long.

It wasn't the fae's words which hurt Loki, it was their lack of. Instead of treating Loki as they did Thor or herself, they disregarded him. To Loki, their futile attempt to trick him would've been more respectful than not trying at all. And for that, they deserved a punishment.

Ellie blinked and looked into the wall. "You let them go first in case we were ambushed, didn't you?"

As expected, Loki didn't answer her question. They both knew Heimdall or Odin were watching, but Ellie suspected it was because Loki despised admitting his secrets.

"You shouldn't be insulted by how they didn't try to steal from you," she said, adjusting her belt and weapons stowed upon her. "You should be enthralled by your reputation – it exists across the entire universe." He narrowed his eyes, thinking over her words.

"You might want to hold your breath," he said after a moment. "You haven't used the Bifrost's magic since you first arrived. It will be jarring."

"Okay." She inhaled, her chest rising.

The God looked down at her. "And close your eyes." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Or keep them open as I should've guessed." They shared a knowing grin and Ellie grabbed the lapel of his cape. There was a startled breath escaping his lips as she pushed him through the portal and fell in after him.

* * *

Ellie hit the ground with a catastrophic grunt.

She held her face to the soft dirt, groaning between breaths. Her stomach ached. With a lurch, she clambered onto her knees. "I'm gonna be sick," she heaved. Her sword stuck awkwardly into her side and the bow strapped to her back was pointing towards her skull.

Someone took her arm, helping her to her feet. The colour of her cheeks was paler. "Can we walk back to Asgard?"

"Of course," Thor said. "I will command the stars as our footpath and the galaxies as our guidance."

"Pompous oaf," Loki muttered, brushing his cloak down. A glint of steel flashed off the sunlight which wove through the trees. And there was a forest of them.

Lilac trunks and Byzantium leaves surrounded their group. The bushes were mulberry with violet berries. Despite the ground being mud, there was evidential purple shading which continued through the fae's kingdom. The sun created a gold glow over the dust flittering down.

Ellie straightened and blinked rapidly, fearing it was a wonderful dream.

"Would you like to stay here forever?" Hrimeer said, chewing a plummet of fruit he picked. Ellie went to gush a yes. Who wouldn't want to dance through the enchanted woods, listening to the faeries songs and singing until the sun set? However, she raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Hrimeer laughed. "Well done, sweetling. Starting to catch on, aren't you?"

"Starting to," she said. "Keep calling me sweetling and you won't have to trick me into falling in love with both of you."

Aetri met her eyes and giggled. She held Hrimeer's arm, gazing up at him wistfully.

Stepping through the forest, they scouted the horizon for sign of movement. It was hard to adjust to the idea that this was once her realm. Her true-born home was miles from her touch. Ellie searched her memories for one in Aesla's kingdom, but she returned empty-handed. It was alien territory.

Hrimeer and Aetri leapt through the woods; over vegetation and under trunks like sleek deer. They ran their hands over every surface, plucking berries and chewing on them as they led the way.

Ellie went to touch a red cherry but was quickly scolded by the princes. If you ate the fae's food without permission, you would crave nothing else until you starved.

They entered the forest where sunlight could not penetrate the leaves, Ellie began to hear humming. She frowned, staring between the trees for wargs.

"Can you hear that?" she said, edging near Thor. He had slowed and had his sword poised. Loki slid a dagger from within his sleeve and held it aloft.

"Come!" Aetri called. "It is our people."

A light was rising behind the fae, illuminating the trees as they neared. Their path spread into vessels of forest where the glow gathered. It was lilac as they walked, and they found the fae standing in front of a lamp.

Aetri reached inside the light-source and there was a choir of melodic singing. Ellie turned her head to question Loki and he ignored her intuitive look, instead straightening up as if greeting his father. And then the ground cracked and fell down. The Asgardian and half-human stared in bewilderment.

The floor became a mud ramp, controlled by vines on either side which grew out of the dirt. Aetri took the lamp and led the way down a dark, weaving tunnel.

"Is this the path the others will take?" Ellie glanced back, imagining hundreds of soldiers storming over the soft ground. They would trample the flowers with their leather boots. It was a necessary sacrifice.

Hrimeer led the way. "No. This is to meet the Queen. She will clear the paths for our armies on the surface."

"You've all lived under here?"

"Yes," he said, his voice distant.

"It must've been terrible. How long has it been this way?"

"Over three hundred years since the Alkar was stolen."

Aetri tightened her grip on the lamp, glancing back at Ellie with a broken look. "We've waited so long for you."

The two princes muttered behind Ellie. Their figures were too tall for the tunnel and so they slouched, their hair skimming the roots which tangled from the ceiling. Ellie held her hood over her head and hurried after the fae. As tricky as they were, they still deserved freedom and hope. She touched her torque, missing her catholic beads immensely.

She decided the next morning she would go to the surface and pray.

A purple light blossomed at the end of the tunnel. They reached an entryway for a hall the size of a city. And what a home it was. The walls were carved like an ant's nest, with interwoven paths and passages disappearing into darkness. Glowing faeires, barely the size of Ellie's fist lit up the area. They dove in front of their band of travellers, flashing long teeth and smiles.

Ellie blinked quickly, taking a hesitant step forward. A hand touched her elbow. It was Loki.

They shared an apprehensive look before continuing. The dirt bridge stretched up to a throne made of vines. On either side of them was a hundred miles of city. There was a spiderweb of paths full of fae. They were happily chatting; carrying laundry and food. However, they sensed newcomers, and all came to a stop, turning their heads to the middle of the kingdom.

With her cheeks turning pink, she chewed on her tongue. A strong smell of honeysuckle overwhelmed her and the princes. Thor coughed, despising the scent. He preferred the sting of steel and burning.

Aetri and Hrimeer came to a stop and moved to each side of the bridge, their gazes snapping to Ellie. In front of her was a woman. She sat in the tall, overgrown chair which had been carved from the heart of a lilac tree. The branches curled around the seat and armrests. It was Queen Aesla Featherwine.

The face of the woman was ageless, neither old nor young, though it was painted using watercolours along a canvas as smooth as silk. Her hair was white, reflecting the light of the fires on the walls, and upon it was a circlet of purple; her eyes were as dark as night, and in them was nothing but space to fall down.

As with Hrimeer and Aetri, Ellie felt unworthy of Aesla. She looked down as she neared and swallowed bile.

"Hello, little ones," her soft voice echoed throughout the kingdom. Thor inhaled and shuffled beside his brother, untrusting of the words of faeires. "Welcome to Alfheim."

"Queen Aesla," Loki bowed. "The sons of Odin present Eurelia Niamh Chinn Óir."

"Good evening, little Gods," she said. "And little princess." Ellie raised her head and met her intoxicating eyes. "Come here."

As Ellie left the close space of the Aesir Gods, she felt their comforting aura leave her. She clenched her fist and focused on her inner self to warm her.

Aesla took her hand fluidly and stood, rising over seven feet in height. Perhaps the fae's royalty matched that of bees where the largest was the one in charge. She pulled Ellie from the throne room and into a maze of passages which ultimately led to a domed garden. bounced from the faeiries in the room and onto the glass covering the high ceiling. A willow tree grew beside a round pond which shimmered. The water was smooth like syrup.

"You may drink and eat whatever you wish," Aesla said angelically. A sly smirk curled up her face. "Wouldn't want you staying here forever with me. Unless you want to then I would indulge." Thor and Loki were slowly walking behind her, eyeing the room with distrust. A fae servant appeared with gold goblets and empty dishes.

"No silver here, little elf," Aesla said, continuing to pull Ellie towards the willow. With a flick her finger, the princes were commanded to stay on the other side of the pond. They took their cutlery and drank from the pond with their eyes glued to Ellie.

Her palms were sticky with sweat as she sat beside Aesla on the ground. The grass had no sunlight, yet it flourished beneath them. It was as soft as baby hair. Ellie ran her fingers over it, and she swore it whispered sweet nothings.

An ethereal hum filled the room, making her feel at peace. She blinked slowly at the queen and removed her hood.

Aesla gasped and reached for Ellie's ears. Her white hair fell over her shoulder, trailing the floor. "Oh my," she said. "So, it is true. The one we have waited for has come back in both body and mind." The queen didn't touch Ellie's ears, but held her fingers at a distance. "You're like a rose. I could keep you in my garden forever."

"I don't think my grandfather would appreciate that much."

"No. He would not."

"Mm."

"Queen Aesla, I was sent here to save my people and I need your help to do so." Ellie glanced across the room at the princes. "What was it you wished for in exchange for your armies?"

The queen followed her gaze and then brought it back to hers, fluttering her long lashes. Her red lips parted, revealing porcelain teeth. "It is only one thing, little elf…" she said. Ellie leaned in, listening intently.

Across the pond, Thor and Loki watched their exchange. The waters glistened like stardust rained down upon them. It refracted Aesla and Ellie like the sat within a mirage that was beginning to disintegrate.

Thor crunched on a berry. "What are they saying?" he asked, food mashing in his mouth.

With a concentrated frown, Loki peered closer. His power swelled across the water, but it was met with a magic barrier. It was weak and he could have cracked it open like a broken mirror. However, his eyes slid to Ellie and he decided that patience would be his ally. "I can't hear them," he said. "The fae have put a wall up."

"So, your power has met its match."

"Perhaps. I still have enough to make you choke on the fruits." He flicked a finger and Thor gasped at his throat, his cheeks turning red. His muscles tightened for a startling second and then the feeling was gone.

He collapsed against the tree and gasped for breath, spitting the berry out. "If it were not for the laws of this kingdom, I'd snap your neck," he heaved.

"You'd miss me far too much. Besides, I could return from Valhalla and snaps yours."

"Curse the Gods for being able to do that. When our grandfather died, do you remember him visiting Father as a ghoul?"

Loki snickered. "He only did it the once."

"What do you mean? He came into my room with his axe protruding from his forehead!"

"Did he?"

Realisation dawned on Thor's face. He went red and clenched his fist. "You!" he cursed. "I knew it - you lying, devilish..."

A soft gasp echoed from Ellie. Loki looked at her sharply, taking a step forward.

The fae queen was pressing a kiss to her lips, finalising a deal. Thor stumbled to his feet, tripping over his words as he struggled to comprehend what Ellie had done.

"No," Loki said loudly, frightening the two women into pulling away. "What did you do?" He raised a hand, channelling his magic into the forcefield and wrenching it apart. Ellie stepped back, her eyes full of tears which threatened to burst onto her cheeks. "What did you do?" he begged, his voice cracking with furiousity.

It was too late. The queen pressed a hand to Ellie's cheek and bowed to the prince. "What she had to do, little god."

* * *

**References**

**'You're like a rose'** \- the great gatsby

**Berserking** \- a traditional viking custom where warriors would induce psychedellic drugs and go 'insane', riling up for war and murdering their enemies.

* * *

**Comments**

_efearthling_ \- thank you so much for reading and enjoying! I'm glad you like Ellie's development, its very difficult to achieve and I felt I haven't done a good job at it, but your review made my day. Thank you x

_SenSen-Chan_ \- loyal reader! thank you for reviewing after i took such a long break! Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy the change in scenery and Ellie's impending destiny which is just round the corner!

_Jun_ \- So many reviews and comments! What a wonder and joy it was to read them all! Thank you so much for coming back to review the new chapter! and yes, an elf, she's finally reverting back to her bloodline!


	34. Into the Belly of the Beast

Worship of the Gods

_The beautiful journey of today  
can only begin when we learn to let go of yesterday._

– Steve Marboli, Unapologetically You

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Four: Into the Belly of the Beast

Ellie tantalisingly stared across Alfheim, breathing in the hibiscus wind which swept over the trees. There were no wargs in sight, nor smoke from distant fires. The realm appeared serene; at peace.

Its soul was not. Ellie gripped a branch in her hand, her knuckles turning white as the realm screamed. She felt the ground being ripped up and set alight. Great caverns were opening up and wargs clambering out of their hives.

They stalked the edge of Aesla's forest, waiting for a glimpse of the war which was coming. She wasn't sure how they knew, but they were preparing for battle.

Tears filled her eyes. The evil and malice caught hold of her spying. She almost felt the warg's scratching at her insides.

"Are you finished with your prayers?" a voice startled her. She gasped, letting go of the tree and turning up to see Thor. He had clambered up the tree, no doubt in a loud and brawling manner. Ellie was so preoccupied she hadn't heard.

"Thor," she murmured. "What's wrong?"

"Well," he said, taking a seat beside her. The branch creaked beneath them. "It's either the impending war or your lack of faith."

"I don't lack faith. I'm apologising to Him."

He raised an eyebrow, looking up at the sky. "Why?"

"I'm supposed to rest with him when I die, not an alien planet." Ellie fiddled with her torque. "I doubt he's impressed."

"But you might live."

She grinned. "Perhaps."

"Don't you believe so?"

Their eyes met. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

"I thought you'd be more upset about dying. You're very calm."

With a wordless shrug, she sat straighter and closed her eyes. A long exhale left her lips. "The Queen said I was an absolute rose. I could become one now."

Another creak groaned out of the tree. Thor lifted his legs to cross them over one another. "My brother is angry at you."

"I guessed."

"Was it the shouting? Or the magic he used to drain the pond dry?"

Ellie laughed loudly, remembering the events after her kiss with the queen. "Both. Why is he angry? I've hardly given up. I won't be in my body when I die."

"When Aesir die, we join Valhalla. We still have our souls. You'll be trapped here, Ellie." His voice became very soft, dropping to a saddened murmur. She cracked an eye open. "And not even in your kingdom with your grandfather; you'll be in the ground. Forever."

"I might not die, though," she edged. "Even if I did, you could visit, and I'd be compost for a beautiful flower."

His features tightened. The visible pain created an itch inside of Ellie. She closed her eyes again and held her face up to the sun. There was a heartbeat of silence.

"What are you saying in your prayer?" Thor asked.

"Want me to say it out loud?" she asked, looking at him again. "Okay. I'm saying: Heavenly Father, who art in the Kingdom of Heaven, grant me forgiveness.

My body belongs to you regardless of time and space. It is yours to use as you please, whether it be disintegration or everlasting existence. Forgive me for resting my body in the unholy land but grant me with enough love to make it so.

For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory. Amen." She held her fingers to her lips, squeezing her eyes together. A hot tear burned her lashes.

"Your language is very beautiful," Thor said. "I know I have been ignorant to your world and words… Gods. I fear you choosing this afterlife has made me weak." There was a hint of amusement in his voice. Ellie opened her eyes and pushed his arm.

"You already were," she teased. "You're just a softie with the muscle mass of a mountain."

"Perhaps."

A sonic boom exploded behind them, blasting white light across the forest. Ellie's hair whipped in front of her. She clung to the branch and watched the Bifrost fill the realm with magic. Thor laughed loudly. Through the blast, they watched shadows zooming down and onto the woodland floor.

Hundreds of them thundered below. Ellie could hear their chatter through the high-pitched wail of the portal.

Her green protective leggings were adept to the agility of her climb as were her boots. She swung her legs over the branch and began to slip down the tree. She came to sit on the largest branch, meters from the ground as Ljósálfar's soldiers marched out of holes in the ground.

There wore shining lilac armour, embezzled with gold. Their thin capes reflected the sunlight into Ellie's eyes.

She squinted as she found Loki. He was leaning against the base of the tree, chewing a plume of berries. He studied one in his hand and threw it into the air. As he opened his mouth to catch it, his gaze caught sight of Ellie. The berry fell to the ground. He clenched his teeth visibly and stormed out of sight.

Half of Ellie despised how she hurt him and Thor. However, the larger half felt justified and proud of her choice. She wasn't free in her destiny, but the tiny decisions were hers to own.

She leapt to the ground. Thor followed loudly, making the ground shake. The Bifrost stopped a moment later and they were met with the boisterous storm of soldiers. They were led by several captains. Few Ellie recognised: Tyr and Skurge. A smile grew on her face.

"Sir," she said, hurrying toward him. "I hate to admit that I missed that malicious face of yours."

A wry grin grew on his face. From the tattoos, freshly shaved head and stout build, he was mostly the same. A single braid grew out of the back of his head with a dozen beads clamped on it. "You may have made it out of training, but I'm still in charge here."

"Of course, sir," she bowed. Her hair fell forward, revealing her ears. If he was shocked, he didn't show it.

"This is yours," he said gruffly and revealed an ugly pouch from his cloak. Ellie took it with a grimace, turning it over. She gasped, suddenly sensing the Alkar's power. Her eyes snapped to Tyr's. "It's safer in that thing. Escapes the wandering eye of spies," he said. "Put it away."

Ellie hastily shoved it inside of her tunic, feeling its warmth against her heart.

"When we return it to the rest, I wouldn't hold it so close," he said. "Rumour has it, it can drive a man insane."

"The rest. Of course." Ellie acknowledged the list of tasks to complete before returning it completely. The Alkar stone was merely a chip off the real heart of Alfheim. It wouldn't be so easy to stash it next to her rib when it was complete. "How was the journey?"

"Pain in the arse. Half of my soldiers won't stop yapping about you."

"Why?"

"They like to claim they trained with you. It's a bit of a competition." He shook his head, shooting a look at the stream of soldiers embarking on the journey out of Aesla's kingdom. "Pissing annoying." In the crowd, they caught sight of several true storytellers: Malai, Naeva and Gustav were beside one another with their heads held high. Close-by, Lounn stumbled. He was too distracted by the beauty of the forest.

"Head up, fool!" Tyr suddenly cried.

Lounn jumped, his cheeks flushing red. When he spotted Ellie, he smiled and waved his long spear. The armour, which would've once been too big, sat neatly on his bulking form. She held a hand up to him.

Tyr straightened. "Join the back. I'm on the frontline in case there's an ambush."

"Do you have directions to Lord Vali's Keep?" Ellie asked.

"Do I look unprepared," he motioned his heavy armour and shield.

Ellie shook her head quickly and swallowed. "Never sir."

"Exactly. On with the great fight." He bowed momentarily and stormed towards the conjoining armies. Ellie turned and caught sight of Queen Aesla and the princes. They were bidding one another goodbye.

With an apprehensive lump in her throat, Ellie stood beside Loki. He radiated annoyance, barely shooting a glance at her.

"This is farewell," little elf," Aesla said to her. "My gift for you Ellie is the heart of fae." Aesla eyes fluttered angelically across her face, before unfolding a silk package. It was a necklace made of white gold with a glowing lilac pendant. Ellie lowered her head as she pushed the jewellery over her. It came to rest in the valley of her breasts, vibrating like a hummingbird's heartbeat. "And the final craftsmanship of Aoife – a historical king who blessed the stone beneath our forest – Hrunting's sword."

Out of Aesla's cape came a sword of glistening white. Its hilt was black stone with a pommel of purple crystal. It felt smooth in her hands. Turning it thrice, she stared and smiled at the queen. "Thank you," she said softly. The fae touched her cheek. Ellie knew the gesture meant: _you will return to us_.

She swallowed and stepped out of the way. Loki and Thor Odinson came forward and bowed. The queen beckoned a servant who rushed up to them and revealed an axe and two daggers from beneath a stretch of fabric.

"The Axe of Forseti," she said as Thor picked it up. His eyes shimmered with delight. "It calls for war and will work with you as its master." She looked at Loki and nodded for him to take the two knives.

"Your father took place in fighting for Alfheim after the Alkar was lost. He used the Sword of Angurvadal which was cracked in battle." Loki turned the daggers in his hands, his eyes drifting over the sharp tip. "We used the blade to forge the Daggers of Angurvadal."

"Thank you, Queen Aesla," he said. Thor bowed, thanking her deeply. They turned to the marching army strutting past them. Aesir were intertwined with fae and elf. In their mismatching uniform, it was a startling display of unity towards Lord Vali's city.

The final soldiers passed their farewell gathering. Skurge was barking orders alongside several other captains. The Warriors Three appeared with waving hands and smirks. Ellie took out the Alkar's pouch and clutched it tightly.

"Blessings to you," Loki continued as he sheathed his daggers. "We must join our kin and restore peace to your realm."

"Indeed, little god," Aesla bowed, her silver hair trailed the ground at their feet. "Perhaps we shall meet again."

"Thank you," Ellie said. "For everything. I will save your realm." The Queen pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her full lips lingered on the skin and hovered close to Ellie's ear. She expected her to ask her to stay with her, but she was silent and only smiled when they parted.

The Queen of Deceit didn't have to trick Ellie into staying, she already held the promise on the tip of her tongue.

Ellie trailed after the princes with the bounce of her weapon at her side. Hrimeer and Aetri were just ahead, bellowing orders to the fae.

The marching cleared a path through the woods. Beneath their boots, the lush ground was a muddy mess. The ruin mirrored how Ellie felt inside. Now that Thor was beside his brother, both were ignoring her completely. They walked in silence.

Arguably, they could've been listening for a bannerman sounding a horn of attack. However, it was clear the princes were disturbed by her agreement with the fae.

"Loki," she started. "I didn't sign a death sentence." He held a hand up to silence her and stared ahead. Ellie closed her mouth, unable to handle Thor's rejection as well. She resorted to holding the pendant from her neck and studying it intensely.

* * *

"Bloody fae nearly had my name," Gustav complained as he took a seat beside Ellie. "Did you see that? Just asked what is was. The cheek of it. Don't they know who I am?"

"A buffoon," Malai snarked.

Naeva chewed a berry and the juice was turning her lips purple. "They only trick people they think are weak-minded."

"That's not true," she said. "They try anyone."

"Oh, so you mean they've tried you and I've hurt your feelings?"

"I didn't mean anything."

"But you admit they've tried to trick you. What was it?"

As they stood in a huddle, the rest of the soldiers recalibrating and sorting through supplies before the final push out of the forest, they chatted idly. It took a while to find one another, but it was a joyous reunion. Ellie grinned, watching their exchange. "They tried to take my name," she said.

"Ah," Gustav laughed, pointing a knife at her. "See? Are you calling elvish royalty weak-minded?"

Malai scoffed. "Royalty? I saw you fall on your ass a dozen times. That's hardly royal."

"Watch it," Lounn edged. "She'll call for the guillotine any moment." Ellie shoved him and frowned. She couldn't imagine resorting to such medieval methods.

Gustav leaned towards Malai. "Go on. What did the fae trick you for?"

There was a heartbeat of apprehension. Malai's face twisted with discontent. "I'm not saying… I won't… I mean, uh…"

Their small group edged together, smiling and suppressing their giggles. Malai was hardfaced and cruel sometimes, but they seemed to be reaching an impasse. With a small explosion of frustration, she groaned and threw her hands down. "Fine! They asked for my name. I gave it… to her."

All of their mouths dropped. Ellie's hand shot to her lips. "Mal," she said. "Who was it?"

She pointed to someone behind her. It was an eccentrically tall fae woman. Her angelic beauty was hypnotising and as if sensing their stares, she turned and met them with a smirk. Malai groaned and shook her middle finger at her. In return, she blew her a kiss.

"Isn't that assault?" Ellie asked.

Malai shook her head. "I could allow her to keep her trick or challenge it."

"Why didn't you? You're one of the strongest fighters I know."

A blush appeared on Malai's cheeks. "I didn't quite mind how my name sounded when she said it."

Tyr blew through a cattle horn. It screeched through the forest and called for their stations to be reassembled. As Ellie straightened, she joined in with her band of warriors as they laughed at Malai. She threatened to punch Gustav and shot a menacing growl at the rest of them.

Ellie thought deeply about how her name sounded on their tongues. Her mind wandered to Loki, who managed to articulate it with such regality that it sent a shiver up her spine. Even as a memory. She filled with warmth.

In desperation, she turned on her heel and abandoned her friends. She marched to the back of the force until she found him in conversation with his brother.

"Can I talk to you?" she demanded, startling both of them. Their lips were stained red from fruit. It would've been humorous, but her annoyance ruined it. "Alone?"

"How alone can one be in the middle of a war?" he said, raising a bemused eyebrow.

She scrunched her face and stormed past him. He, to her gratefulness, stopped until they were a short distance from the soldiers. There was a momentary silence.

"Why are you so angry at me for making a deal with the fae?" she hissed. "It's my decision. They wanted my body if I died. And I might not die."

"And what if you do?" he said venomously. "What if you die? You wouldn't be mourned over on Asgard. You'll be fucking compost for the tricksters."

"It's just a body, Loki."

"It's not just _a_ body. It's _yours_. You have no idea what it means – what it will do to the people who want to mourn you."

"And since when were you so righteous about me, Loki?" Her voice trembled with anger. "You treated me like shit until you found out I wasn't just some lousy human."

"Don't," he snapped. "This is about you deciding when you're fit to die."

"But I might not," she said. "I might not die. I've trained enough. With you – and Tyr – and your mother?"

"It's not enough," he burst, coming to a stop. "It won't be enough."

Ellie stilled in shock, staring at him as a man unbecoming. "This is why it's better if God can't answer back."

"So, you can be indulged in your own delusions?"

"Exactly. I can be selfish. I have every right to make my own choices and I chose to give the fae my body when I die."

"And death is such an easy concept for you now?" he spat.

"How did you guess?" They were painfully close, their chests only inches apart as they breathed heavily and angrily. Loki was holding back what he truly wanted to say, and it made Ellie want to scream. He would've enjoyed her begging, but she suppressed the urge and clenched her fist.

Could it be that Loki had come to care for her since they'd met? A grimace of shame swept over her features. She blinked quickly, remembering Aelsa's kiss and the swiftness of their exchange. "You know, she tasted of honey," she said quietly. "It was sweet."

Loki's lip curled up in disgust. "Why did you do this?"

"I don't know," she admitted. When she looked up, Loki's eyes were shimmering with blue and green. The brightness of them was as intoxicating as Aesla's pond. She stared into them, begging him silently to say her name. That was all she wanted. If he said her name, she would feel better and the turmoil would desist.

Instead, she said his name. It slipped from her lips accidentally. A forbidden prayer. His revulsion disappeared and was replaced by confusion.

"We're under attack!" Tyr's shrill voice screamed.

* * *

comments:

SenSen-Chan: Thank you so much for commenting so fast! They always make my day. Here's another chapter I hope you enjoy:)

vivienneflwr: thank you for all of your comments! I'm glad you found this enjoyable enough to read again!


	35. Loyalty

Worship of the Gods

_"War is like a monster," he says, almost to himself.  
"War is the devil. It starts and it consumes  
and it grows and grows and grows."  
He's looking at me now.  
"And otherwise normal men become monsters, too."_

Patrick Ness, The Knife of Never Letting Go

* * *

_**Dedication** \- **SenSen-Chan** for their unwavering support and comments, thank you x_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Five: Loyalty

Bursting through the trees and into the blinding sunlight of a giant field, Ellie was surprised to find no enemy or creature upon them. Instead, the fighters were awkwardly huddled and moving left and right for more room.

Ellie looked up at the empty sky as Loki grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd. She grimaced as metal scraped metal and the shield on her back was caught several times. They reached the front, coming to stand beside Thor and the Warriors Three. If it were not for Thor's strong arm, Loki and Ellie would have tumbled into the chasm which lay before them.

Ellie's fingers curled over his beaded gauntlet. The pit was hundreds of miles deep with violent ridges carved into its sides. Something had been digging and recently. Haphazard bridges were situated along the pit. Aesla's magic worked, but the wargs were desperately angry.

In the distance, there was a black shape. It was pointed and tall. Lord Vali's fortress was painfully close, yet not enough.

Lady Sif was crouched, staring into the pit with an angry frown.

"They did this?" Ellie's hand fell to her sword. "Why?"

"Wargs are birthed underground." Loki drew a dagger. Volstagg muttered something and Fandral loudly swore.

Hogun peered in. "Like ants."

A broken screech echoed out of the chasm, taking the soldiers by surprise. A ripple swept through them and a shiver run up Ellie's spine. She could see nothing except for dirt and stone; broken bridges and darkness. It was very different to the arena and she didn't feel like being a dancing shadow.

But the air was warm and humid. It felt as if fires were burning below their feet. Even the Warriors Three were unnerved. Their weapons clinked against their armour.

Tyr stormed through the soldiers, his face red and sweaty. "They're here." His sword was drawn and blood dripped from it. "They were here."

"Where are they now?" Thor cast a look across the field on the other side.

"Below. It was just a scout. I couldn't kill it quick enough. I assume he's alerting the pack."

Thor straightened. "We need to get across the pit."

"They won't hold us all," Lady Sif retorted. "Only a few Aesir can make the jump."

"I can help them," Loki said, wielding a free hand. Electric blue magic danced through his fingers and his eyes lit up for a moment. The situation was filling them all with dread. "As for the bridges… we can if we do it strategically. A few at a time. The wood they've used is made of fae magic. It can hold more than we think."

A bloodcurdling screech called to them again. Ellie pushed through Thor and stared into the depths. Shadows stretched up towards her. Fallen trees stuck out of sides and there was a stench of rot. The ground felt unsteady beneath her feet as she noticed the dark was filling with monstrous, misshapen monsters clambering up towards them.

"They're coming!" she cried, unsheathing her sword.

Thor grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back.

"What are you doing?" she shoved him away.

"Volstagg," Thor continued. The warrior, already red and prepared, saddled up next to the prince. "You can make it back quicker than any of the others. Go, now. Take her to the front of the fortress and return. As fast as you can."

Cold filled Ellie, she stepped away from Thor, hitting Loki's chest. "No. No, no, don't do this!" she pleaded and turned to Loki who was staring into the chasm. "I have to fight!"

"You have to survive." He realised she was going to attempt to flee into the crowd of warriors and raised a hand. In a moment, she was frozen and staring up at the prince's cruel face.

Volstagg's meaty arm clamped around her middle and he leapt across the chasm.

Ellie screamed. The wind whipped through her hair. From the air, she could see the true horror of the pit. It was a gateway to Hell. Out of its mouth were dozens of serpentine monsters. Their eyes glowed yellow and they were hungry.

Volstagg landed rather gracefully, his feet hitting the earth and throwing dirt outwards.

"Put me down!" she scratched at his arm furiously. Aesla's sword smacked his leg, but it was no use. He thundered across half an acre of land before coming to an abrupt stop. A horn sounded from the frontline, calling for attention and battle.

Volstagg dropped Ellie in surprise. He looked between her and fight, his eyebrows knitted together. She stumbled to her feet, breathing heavily. "Go," she commanded. "Go!"

"Go to the fortress," he begged. "Do not follow me." And off he sprinted, revealing his weapon and a thunderous cry.

Shock had shot adrenaline through her system. Even if Volstagg had reached Vali's gates, she would've turned back and ran towards the fight. Her blood pumped for it; her heart ached. With Hrunting's sword at home in her clenched fist, she started towards the chasm.

The screams urged her forward. Soldiers were sprinting across the bridge, fighting off the creatures. They were three times the size of Thor. Their red skin made them appear like dragons without wings. But they were Nidhoggs.

Ellie guessed they were the guardians of the warg offspring which grew below. She spotted blue surges of magic pulling soldiers over the chasm. Prince Loki, with his back to her, was fighting off the onslaught of Nidhoggs; risking his life to save the fighters.

Volstagg stopped suddenly, staring at the ground in bewilderment as it began to rise. The dirt plumed out forcing him to stumble sideways. He backed away. A Nidhogg burst from the middle and screamed, spotting the redhaired man. It dove onto him and the two began to wrestle, teeth against sword.

Craning her neck as Ellie continued to run, she caught up with Volstagg easily. She lifted the sword high and brought it down on the Nidhogg's neck. The skin split open and the creature died instantaneously.

Volstagg was covered in blood; he emerged coughing and spluttering. "You!" he bellowed. "Get back to the fortress."

"I won't abandon you in the middle of a fight." Ellie held her arm out and he took it, pulling himself to his feet.

"Loki will have my head."

"Then, I'll fight for that too," she grinned.

They entered the ruckus of Fae, Elf and Nidhogg.

Ellie's wanted to reach Loki, fearing for his life. However, she spotted a faerie-soldier who had fallen in front of a Nidhogg. He was waving his sword blindly. Ellie leapt between them. Her sword ripped through the monster's jaw. It fell sideways, dead and defeated.

"We thought you had abandoned us," he stared up at her. With Aesir uniform on and her Ljósálfar features, she had drawn the attention of the fighters. They had seen her flee the fight and were confused by her return. Ellie took his hand, helping him to his feet. "I have a duty here, but I couldn't." They were flushed and breathless, smiling at one another. The nameless fae stared at her as if she'd brought him back from the dead.

Another Nidhogg came them, his jaw wide. Ellie jumped back and with her left-hand compelled energy through her. She swung a shield of yellow magic onto the head of the beast and it hit the ground unceremoniously. With a grunt, she shoved her sword through its skull.

As she came close to Loki, she was sweating and breathless. He had turned thrice, fighting off the creatures which saw his exposed back as an opportunity. It was exhausting as far as Ellie could tell. The dozen soldiers still left were itching to cross and as the bridges were packed with battles, the only way was through Loki.

A Nidhogg sprinted past Ellie, thundering towards him. She took off after it, ignoring the burn in her thighs. The tail was in reach of her outstretched fingertips. With an influx of hatred, she surged magic out of her hands and wrapped it around the monster's throat. She lassoed it back as it came within an inch of biting through Loki's neck.

An animalist grunt came from her as she stomped before it. She felt Loki's magic all around her. It danced on the soldiers and around him. She would never reach his status, but she could bathe in it.

The Nidhogg reared onto two legs and roared. Ellie hardened her stance, imagining she was in an arena back on Asgard. In truth, Tyr was on the same stretch of land, so it was close enough.

Ellie swiped her sword, threatening to spill the Nidhogg's innards. It flinched back. Ellie was startled when it snapped its gigant mouth at her. She stepped, meeting Loki's back.

"Who-?" he began. "Ellie," he said breathlessly as she surged forward and fought the beast. She swung and dove angelically, her stance strong. The Nidhogg was unprepared for her mixture of magic and swordplay. With a cry she blinded it, white light surged into his eyes and she thrust her weapon into its brain. The crunch satisfied her immensely, so much so that she re-joined Loki and scarcely noticed him staring.

The admiration sizzled into disbelief. "You…" he began, his voice rising. "Are meant to be with Lord Vali."

Ellie scarcely looked at him. She was looking at each Nidhogg and its opposers. If anything dared near her… "I've just saved your life," she said.

"You should be with the fortress." He continued to pull the remaining soldiers across the chasm. "I gave you an order!"

"I saved your life!"

"You weren't meant to."

The whip of a Nidhogg's tail startled her. Ellie slashed the tip off and cackled, almost manically at the prince. "Oh," she guffawed, "you'd rather be in Valhalla now?"

"If that is my fate then so be it!"

"You absolute hypocrite," Ellie turned viciously at the same time as Loki. He was helping one final fae onto their side and teleported him a little too vigorously. The soldier hit the ground with a grunt and struggled to his feet, throwing Loki a wave of gratitude regardless.

"Look what you made me do," the prince hissed.

"What I made you do? You are willing to throw your life away but the moment I do it, you hate me."

"Hatred, is it?" he spat.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled. They unsteadily attempted to straighten themselves, but the dirt began to rise. Loki stepped away from the side of the chasm, his arms outstretched worriedly. Their eyes met and before Ellie could warn him that a Nidhogg was about to appear, it burst from the ground and threw them outwards.

Dirt filled Ellie's mouth and nose as she rolled over. Something shoved her violently and she was free-falling until she hit a hard surface. The air was knocked from her lungs and she was staring up at the sky from the perspective of the chasm. All around her, Nidhoggs were rising from below.

She grunted, getting onto an elbow and peering around her. She was on a small ledge, a few meters from the surface. The worst part was that she was alone. Shouts and battle cries were above her, muffled by the mud walls. It was as if she was descending into Hell.

Getting to her feet, she scrabbled at the soil. Her sword made it difficult. Ellie slipped and fell onto her back. She groaned, arching slightly.

Something grabbed hold of the neck of her tunic, yanking her backwards. Her scream filled the chasm. Ellie blindly jabbed her sword behind her but the Nidhogg barely flinched. Its breath was hot on her head. The stench of saliva filled her nose. It was going to rip her spinal cord out.

But suddenly a black wolf was on her. Ellie glimpsed its teeth tear through the Nidhogg's red scales a like knife into butter; heard the crunch of bone. She saw the black fur was flattened in parts, covered by leather armour and a couter with a Norse rune imprinted on it. There was a breastplate and a fauld with numerous weapons dangling from it. Two daggers sat in a fae's sheath.

"Loki." Ellie stared up at the wolf's neck from which she lay below.

He released the Nighogg momentarily, but that was enough time. Its jaw was clamped on Ellie and it her hauled out from beneath the god. She was towed through mid-air and thrust against the side of the chasm as it clambered up and over the top of the ridge.

She screeched as the Nidhogg was caught by something. It discarded her in a heap of sweat and breathless. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched it fly and crumple meters from her. It riled up, scrabbling on its four thin legs.

Elli fumbled for her shield.

The wolf roared, rearing up behind Ellie and leaping between them. In its guttural tones, she swore she heard an articulate _humanoid. _

Loki attacked the Nidhogg in a startling instant, sending a spurt of ripped flesh across the field. He wrenched the beast apart, shaking his head with his mouth clenched around its throat. Its screech disintegrated into a gargle. When Loki dropped it to the floor, he stepped back and the ground vibrated with the weight of his wolf's body.

The brutality of the attack hit Ellie. There was a cluster of Nidhogg around them, but fae, Aesir and elf were working together to bring them down. Lilac and gold blurred as well as the screams of command from Tyr and Skurge.

Getting to her feet, she spotted a serpentine monster heading for her. She adjusted her stance and thrust her sword against its snout just as it reached her. It cried out but snapped at her again, using its long body to throw her off guard. She jumped sideways and slashed its leg.

The wolf appeared at her side and ended the Nighogg's life with a swipe of his claws. It felt to the ground. Dead.

Ellie met Loki's electric gaze and nearly smirked. His frightening frown left her momentarily breathless.

He shot a look across the battle, searching for his brother and Warriors Three. They were taking down a particularly large Nidhogg, struggling to avoid its sharp teeth. If not for his armour or reputation, anyone could've mistaken him for a warg with the gore soaking him. "Get to the fortress," he adjured, blood dripped from his lips.

"And abandon you all?" she retorted.

"Ignoring orders is punishable by death." He snarled, rather _characteristically_.

It annoyed her that he was using his metamorphosis to command her. "Good thing you prefer me alive." Her chest filled with the dread of his anger. "Perhaps not right now." A childish smirk crept up on her lips.

Loki inhaled, his bulking chest rising. _"Eltmikr,_" he snapped. _"Stål mit mer_." Blue magic swirled around his eyes. Ellie followed him through the fight, swinging her sword and releasing her shield from her back. She found it difficult to use magic and her bodily strength, but with Loki at her side it wasn't such a struggle.

_Follow me. Stay with me_. Those Old Norse words tickled her insides. A part of her knew those words would stick with her for long after the battle; perhaps even into death. She knew she wouldn't be able to do either then.

The world expanded, looking like a board of Hnefatafl rather than a field. The army surrounded the Nidhogg on each side, tightening their advance on them. There were a dozen curling and crawling over one another like a rat king. If the army waited long enough, the creatures would tangle and starve to death.

Beside her, Loki took off from the ground and took the form of a ginormous raven. He flew up and became a black dot. Ellie stilled, staring up at him. The idea of abandonment or fleeing didn't cross her mind.

Soldiers left and right followed the bird. Thor was beginning to laugh, and it turned into a cackle of delight. Lady Sif huffed, calling Loki a show-off.

The Nidhogg's turned their gazes back to the armies surrounding them and riled up on their hindlegs. Ellie crouched slightly, gripping her weapon.

A raven's cry called for their attention once more. Loki catapulted towards the ground, narrowing his wings and body into a thin slit. And then his form exploded into a wolf once more. Claws and teeth rained down into a group of Nidhogg's. they exploded beneath Loki's force.

Flesh rained over them. The few left alive became stragglers, unable to keep up with the hoard of soldiers which followed Loki's example. Fae, elf and Aesir thrust their weapons with violent cries of victory.

Ellie pushed through them, ducking beneath Thor's swinging axe. She skidded over a limp Nidhogg and leapt over another. Her hands and front were bloody, causing her to slip several times. However, she reached the centre of her target and found Loki struggling to his feet.

He was covered in dirt and blood. A large splash caked his right cheek as Ellie took hold of it and scooped her arm beneath his. For such a lithe man, he weighed an immeasurable amount; arguably standing over six and a half feet tall aided that. With a grunt, she asked if he was okay to which he nodded feebly and clenched his teeth.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said, helping him through the dead. "We could've finished them without your wiping yourself out."

"It had to be done." He sweated slightly. "We've lost enough."

Ellie cast a look around and noticed there were still thousands of them left. They were breathing heavily, scouting the field for any Nidhogg's. Most knew they were victorious and were wiping their weapons, clamping their friends on the back or starting towards Lord Vali's fortress.

Tyr was atop a pile of creatures, barking orders.

As soon as Loki and Ellie were clear of the epicentre, Loki unhooked her arm. He stumbled slightly but reached his brother's outstretched hand. They held one another fiercely and shared a proud grin.

A strong body collided with Ellie, wiping her from her feet. She cried out and wildly grappled.

"You beautiful bastard!" Lounn cried joyously, swinging her in circles. "You came back!"

Laughing loudly, she wrapped her arms around him and inhaled the dirt, blood and sweat of battle.

* * *

**Comments**:

SenSen-Chan - hello! i'm glad you liked the chapter and Loki is so frustrating but its so much fun to write turmoil and suppressed emotions. I've tried to portray how difficult it would be for a prince/god/aesir to express himself when it comes to a human/mortal. Happy reading for this chapter - i dedicate this to you x

Vivienneflwr - all of those comments were amazing to read! Thank you immensely for re-reading and commenting. It means the world!


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